


Three Years Have Passed Since The War Ended

by Cpetrienm



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Awkwardness, F/M, Librarian Hermione Granger, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Relationship develops quickly, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-03 16:38:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 30,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14000235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cpetrienm/pseuds/Cpetrienm
Summary: Three years have passed since the war ended and Hermione is stuck in a holding pattern.  When she befriends lonely Draco, they discover a passionate connection neither expected.





	1. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They meet at Flourish & Blotts.

Draco Malfoy tinkered with a small metal object on his desk in the Department of Mysteries.  He knew the object had once been able to extinguish sound in an area about the size of the Great Hall at Hogwarts, but it was no longer able to do so.  He sighed with a mix of frustration and boredom.  

 

Since the war ended three years ago, Draco had narrowly escaped time in Azkaban, though he did not go without punishment.  The entirety of the Malfoy estate had been seized by the Ministry.  They allowed him to keep his Black inheritance, for which he was grateful.  His parents were both serving time in Azkaban for their part in the war.  

 

Part of Draco’s punishment was working to repair Dark and dangerous magical objects.  Like Sisyphus’ constant uphill trek, Draco had a never-ending supply of broken magical objects to fix.  He had excellent instincts for fixing these broken objects.  

 

At least Draco could count on solitude in his tiny office in the Department of Mysteries.  With the Dark Mark on his arm and his trademark platinum hair, Draco wasn’t easily welcomed by most of society.  If he was lucky, people ignored him.  When he did venture into Diagon Alley, he could count on rude comments and on some occasions, violence.

 

Draco accepted his isolation and loneliness as part of his punishment.  

 

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

     

Hermione touched up her lipstick and re-pinned some hair that had escaped her loose chignon.  She didn’t see many people during her day working as the librarian in the Department of Mysteries Dark Arts Library.  The contents of her library were known to very few people and those that did know of it didn’t often have use for the knowledge housed in those grim tomes.

 

After the war, she was offered the job because of her knowledge of Voldemort’s horcruxes and her ability to understand the depth of the written word.  Truthfully, Hermione found her job dreary and a bit mundane. 

 

Harry and Ron both accepted offers to play professional Quidditch.  Ron continued to play for the Chudley Cannons, but Harry found that he was a better coach than a player.  Ron had met and married a beautiful version of his mother.  Her name was Cassandra and Hermione thought they were well matched.  Harry and Ginny had married after Ginny graduated from Hogwarts.  Harry’s job was time-consuming and intense, so Ginny took care of the household duties.  Harry needed Ginny’s support and Ginny was happy to provide it.  She was thankful Ron and Harry had rich, full lives with loving partners.  

 

Coupling up had seemed so easy for the boys.  She envied their strong relationships.  The only men she seemed to meet were interested in her celebrity.  Hermione could admit she was an unusual person, but she could offer the right man passion, conversation, and curiosity.  It appeared to her there weren’t many men who could appreciate what she brought to the table.  

 

Her parents had a loving and equitable relationship.  She missed them.  They had decided to stay in Australia after she restored their memories.  They never outright told her, but she knew they harbored some fear of her magical powers.  She had performed an invasive spell on them and she knew they might never truly trust her again.  But she would do it again if she had to, to keep them safe.

 

Hermione looked at the mirror one last time.  She smoothed out her formfitting dress and headed to Flourish & Blotts.      

 

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

 

The cool fall air felt good to Draco after spending the day in his stuffy office.  He headed to Flourish & Blotts to pick up a book he had ordered a few weeks before.  Draco spent a good deal of his free time reading.  He enjoyed nonfiction, but fiction was his escape.   

 

Draco wandered through the quiet bookstore, enjoying the smell of new books.  He was passing by the Arithmancy section, when he noticed Hermione Granger straining to reach a book.  He walked over and pulled it off the shelf for her.  When he looked at her face, he expected disgust or disregard, but she smiled at him pleasantly.

 

“Thanks, Malfoy,” she said, taking the book from him.  She pointed to the book in his hand.  “Oh, you ordered the new Cornell book!  I’ve had it on my reading list for a while now.”

 

The extent of Draco’s conversation skills of late consisted of having cashiers take his money at the till.  

 

“Uh, yeah, I, um enjoyed his other mystery series,” Draco stammered out.

 

“I liked his stand alone Auror suspense novel.  You’ll have to tell me what you think of the new book,” she said, sincere interest in her face.  

 

“You can borrow it when I finish it,” he blurted out.  

 

“I’d like that.  Are you doing anything right now?  I was planning on having a cup of coffee before I head home.”  Hermione knew she was taking a chance, but she was curious about this slightly awkward, approachable Malfoy.

 

He looked at her for a second before shaking his head.  “I don’t have plans tonight.”

 

“Let me pay for my book and we can go,” she said, walking towards the till.

 

Draco followed slightly behind her.  He had always had a thing for Granger.  During school, she was forbidden fruit for him, but he knew it was more than that.  She had an enthusiasm for her studies, her friends and her beliefs that was the antithesis of how he was taught to comport himself.  She had developed into a beautiful woman, with chic, upswept hair, creamy skin and a soft, voluptuous figure.  Her eyes sparkled when she was excited, which Draco found endearing.

 

They exited the bookstore and headed towards a Diagon Alley coffee and tea shop.  People stopped and stared and them, whispering to each other.  Hermione kept overhearing “Death Eater” in their murmurings.  She could see Draco trying to ignore them, but it was hard to do so.  They were so clearly talking about the two of them.

 

“Do you fancy going into Muggle London for coffee?” she asked Draco.  “I know a great place not too far from the Leaky.”

 

“That’s fine,” Draco said.  In truth, he hadn’t ventured into Muggle London, but figured he was in good hands with a Muggle-born as his guide.  

 

As they walked through the Leaky Cauldron to enter Muggle London, Draco started to regret his decision to accompany Granger for coffee.  The street was full of Muggles walking quickly and cars filled the streets.  He was overwhelmed and did his best to stay close to Hermione, but he was constantly jostled by pedestrians hurrying to their destinations.  Hermione grasped his hand in her warm hand, leading him through the crowd.  He relished the contact with her, his fingers twining with hers.  

 

Hermione knew Draco was apprehensive about being in such a foreign environment, so she pointed out little things to him on their walk to the coffee shop.  He knew she was trying to distract him and he appreciated the gesture.  When they reached the café, the smell of roasted coffee permeating the building, Hermione let go of his hand.  Immediately, Draco missed the contact.

 

“Do you like chocolate?  The mocha latte is delicious,” she said to him.

 

“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

 

Hermione ordered their drinks and paid the barista.  

 

“Thank you,” Draco said.  “I’ll have to get it next time.”

 

“I’ll hold you to that,” she agreed, taking her drink to a table.  

 

Draco sat across from her at the small table, his frothy drink steaming.  He took a sip of the rich concoction.

 

“Do you like it?”

 

“It’s very good,” he said, taking another drink.

 

“I know Muggle London can be a bit overwhelming, but I find the wizarding world to be oppressive sometimes.  Like the public has this characterization of you and you can’t ever deviate from that.  I don’t really go into Diagon Alley unless I have a specific reason for being there.”  

 

“It’s not so bad here, I’m just not used to it.  I don’t get out much,” he admitted.  

 

“I don’t either, but I do like the anonymity of London.  Are you still in the Dark Objects Unit?”

 

“Yeah, almost three years now,” he said.

 

“I’m surprised you’ve never come into my library for information.”

 

“I didn’t consider that your library might be able to help me.  I’ve been able to fix everything that’s come my way.”

 

“I can pull some books for you, if you’d like.”

 

“I’ll come by tomorrow afternoon for them,” he said.  

 

“I can think of a few you might find interesting, at the very least.  What do you do for fun, besides read mysteries?” she teased him.

 

He gave her a grin.  “I troll bookstores for women and convince them to buy me coffee.”

 

“Ohhh, I see I’ve been played by the smooth Draco Malfoy,” she laughed.

 

“You fell right into my trap,” he nodded, taking a sip of his drink.

 

She looked at her watch.  “I’m sorry Draco, but I’ve got to get going to my second job.”  

 

He gave her a puzzled look.  “Why do you work a second job?”

 

“I make more money as an exotic dancer than a librarian, so…” 

 

She started to grab her purse as if she was leaving.

 

He stared at her, his mouth slightly ajar.  Hermione burst into giggles.

 

“Funny.  Very funny,” he said, grinning at her mirth.  _But I’d pay to watch her dance_ , he thought to himself.

 

Hermione felt giddy joking with Draco.  She tended to make odd jokes when she was slightly nervous and in general, most people gave her uncomfortable smiles when she did this.  That Draco actually found her amusing was certainly a point in his favor.  

 

They noticed the barista start to close up the café.  

 

“It’s later than I thought,” Hermione observed.  She wasn’t ready to end her time with Draco.

 

They stood up and began to head towards the door.  They walked back towards the Leaky Cauldron.  Draco was slightly disappointed Hermione didn’t hold his hand, but it wasn’t as busy at it was when they had walked through the crowded streets earlier.  

 

“Do you want to have dinner with me?”

 

“I’d love to,” she said, smiling.        

 

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

    

Hermione led him to an alley and he Apparated them to his home.  It was a small cottage on the beach.  Draco used his wand to light the porch light, illuminating the wood shingles and white trim.  He opened the door, leading her into the living room.  

 

Hermione appreciated the Spartan aesthetic.  She could tell Draco had taken care in picking out his things.  The house was clean and stacks of books added warmth and a personal touch to the room. 

 

Draco took her coat and purse, hanging them in a closet near the stairs.  

 

“If you’d like to freshen up, the loo is upstairs, the first door on the right,” he said to her.  “I’m going to start dinner.”

 

“Thanks, Malfoy,” she said, making her way up the stairs.  

 

Draco couldn’t believe he’d asked her to dinner and she’d said yes.  There was a light-heartedness about her that made him feel young and liked.  The burden of his family name and his actions had weighed on him for so long, he had forgotten what it was like to have a normal, fun conversation with someone he could possibly regard as a friend.  

 

Draco started the water for the pasta then used his wand to chop zucchini, tomatoes, mushrooms and onion.  He sautéed the vegetables with a liberal amount of butter and olive oil.  Hermione sat at his kitchen table while he worked.

 

“Can I help you with anything?” she asked.

 

“Will you open the Chidaine Sauvignon?”

 

Hermione found the wine and two wine glasses.  She opened the bottle using a quick opening spell, similar to _Alohomora_.  As she was setting the glasses down on the table, Draco began plating their food.

 

Hermione took a quick swig of her wine, feeling a bit of nerves.  She liked Malfoy.  He made her laugh and she found him attractive.  He had grown into his features and was a striking man.  He wore his hair in a traditional side parted style.  His grey eyes were fringed by dark lashes.  His expressive brows were a few shades darker than his trademark platinum hair.  His nose gave him a mischievous look while his smirking smile showcased even, white teeth.  His body was still streamlined, but he was more solid than he had been as a teen.  His shoulders were broader, his chest wider.  He wasn’t as tall as Ron, but he was taller than Harry.  

 

He handed her a fork and napkin, then set her plate in front of her.  

 

She took a bite of her food.  “Mmm.  Good.”

 

“Thanks.  How’s the wine?”

 

“I like it.  Where did you learn to cook?” she asked him. 

 

“Cookbooks and trial and error.  You should have seen my first roasted chicken.  It looked like a thestral carcass.”

 

“Yuck, Malfoy!” 

 

He laughed at the expression on her face.  

 

“How do you like your job?” he asked.

 

“Truth?” she said.  He nodded.

 

“I think I’ve been hiding there the past few years.  I can go days without anyone coming into the library.  It’s dull.”

 

Draco could understand her point of view.  She was a brilliant witch.  Without her, the Light wouldn’t have been able to defeat Voldemort.  

 

“What do you do to relieve the boredom?” he wondered.  

 

“I read.  I practice yoga.  I garden.  Over the past year, I’ve started an art collection.  I research up and coming artists and save to buy something from their showings.”  She took another bite of her pasta, enjoying a succulent butter covered mushroom.

 

“What about your job?” she asked.

 

“The work is very detailed, slow and requires all my patience.  It’s not what I envisioned myself doing, but I’m good at it.”  He looked at her, pouring more wine for himself.  He motioned to her glass.  

 

“Please,” she said.  “After the war, I thought it would be best to do something calm and predictable.  But, I feel like I’m ready to start challenging myself.”

 

He smiled at her, “You deserve to live the life you want.”  He stood and offered her his hand.  “Do you want to join me on the porch?  It’s a pleasant way to end the day.  Bring your wine.”

 

Hermione took his outstretched hand, feeling a sense of excitement at the contact he initiated.  He led her to the porch, where they sat on a hanging swing, the sound of the tide a relaxing ebb and flow.  The salty smell of the ocean water tickled her nose.

 

“I like your house,” she told Malfoy.  “It’s not fussy, but still personal.”

 

“I spend a lot of time here.  You’re the first person to visit,” he added.

 

“I’m honored,” she said, squeezing his hand.  She looked at their laced fingers and noticed the time.

 

“It’s late.  I should go or I’m going to be a wreck tomorrow.  Can I help you clean up?” she asked.

 

“No, I can clean up.  Let me get your things.”

 

Draco went into the house and got her coat and bag.  He helped her into her coat.

 

“Maybe now that we know each other better, you’ll visit me in the library,” she said to him.

 

“I promise I will,” he said, wishing he had some reason for her to stay.  

 

“I’ll walk you past the wards, then you can Apparate home,” he said, leading her down the sandy path.

 

Once they got past the wards, Draco stopped walking.  Hermione hugged him and whispered a “thank you” into his ear.  She stepped back, smiling at him and Disapparated with a quiet pop.  

 

For the first time in a long time, Draco was genuinely happy.  

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco sends Hermione a note, thanking her.

When Draco got to his desk the next morning, a note sat waiting for him:

 

_Thank you for dinner last night.  I haven’t laughed that much in a long time.  –H_

 

He agreed.  They had rapport.  He took out a sheet of parchment and a quill.

 

His note flew into her office.  She opened it and laughed:

 

_I’m glad you took the night off from your second job to have dinner with me.  -D_

 

Hermione penned a response:

 

_You’re a riot, Malfoy.  I have your books ready.  Come by for them at lunch, if you have time.  -H_

 

Draco got to work, the morning dragging as he anxiously awaited the clock to strike half past eleven.  It didn’t help that he kept thinking about their time together the day before.  He mulled over their brief moments of holding hands.  Her touch was so natural.  He wondered if she touched all her friends in this same way.  She hadn’t intended to, he was sure, but her little touches throughout the evening had aroused him.  He had the impression that she wasn’t opposed to his touch, but the past few years had taught him to tread carefully. 

 

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

At 11:30, Draco took his lunch to the Dark Arts Library.  He had never been in her library.  He could see why she thought it was depressing.  The library walls were lined with books up to the ceiling.  The lamps along the walls gave off scant illumination.  Unlike the smell of the new books in Flourish & Blotts, the books here smelled of stale smoke, aged parchment, and the sulfuric stench of Dark magic.  

 

Hermione came out of her office when she realized Draco had come into the library.   She spied the lunch in his hands.  

 

“Hi, Malfoy.  I’m glad you brought your lunch.  Do you want to eat in my office?”  

 

She led him to the back of the library.  Her office was spacious.  At least her space was well lit and clean.  She cleared off a spot on her desk for his food.

 

“How was your morning?” he asked.

 

“I collected your books,” she said, motioning to a stack of books on the edge of her large desk.  “I did some writing for a book idea I have.”

 

“Tell me about it.”

 

She laughed nervously.  “Okay, well, I haven’t talked about it before.  I want to write a new Defense Against the Dark Arts text.  I always thought our texts were mediocre at best.”

 

He took a bite of his sandwich and studied her.  He couldn’t understand why talking about her book idea made her nervous.  

 

“If anyone should write a DADA text, it should be you.  You have the expertise and the practical knowledge,” he said.

 

She gave him a grateful smile.  “Thanks, Malfoy.  What did you work on this morning?”

 

“Same object, the Silentium.  I’m not sure what it would be used for.”

 

Hermione thought about Ron’s Deluminator.  It could extinguish or produce light.  Perhaps the Silentium worked in a similar way.  Maybe it helped you to hear those you thought about, the way the Deluminator led Ron back to her and Harry.  Hermione shared her ideas with Draco.

 

“I never thought about it producing sound,” Draco murmured.  “That could create chaos.  But the more personal use could help people find someone…”  

 

Draco trailed off.  Hermione watched his face with fascination.  She could practically see him making connections.  

 

“I pulled a book for you on absence/presence magical objects.  I’m fairly certain this is the book Dumbledore used when creating the Deluminator.”

 

“I’ll have to read through the book,” he said.  He shook his head slowly.  “I’m sorry I didn’t come in here sooner.”

 

Hermione stood up.  “Let me give you a tour of the library.”  

 

Draco listened to Hermione tell him about the different sections, noting books she thought might be of interest to him.  Her breadth and depth of knowledge was truly incredible.  

 

“I should get back to work,” Draco said when they had finished the tour.  He collected the books she had reserved for him.

 

“Do you want to join me for an art gallery show Friday night?  I’ve been studying this artist and I plan on purchasing a painting.”  Hermione thought Draco would enjoy the show.  She’d seen some of his drawings on his walls, so she knew he liked art.  

 

“I haven’t been to a show before.  Is it in Muggle London?” Draco planned on going, but he wanted to know what he was getting himself into.

 

“It is.  Don’t feel pressured to come.”  Hermione worried that she had misread her interactions with him.  

 

“I would like to come.  It’s just… it’s just been me for a long time.  I’m not used to being in a crowd.”  Draco felt embarrassed by his admission.  Granger was probably used to dating outgoing men with great social skills.  

 

“No one knows us in Muggle London, so we can be normal there.”  She gave him a reassuring smile.  

 

“That’s, um…good.  Can I ask you something?”  Draco didn’t want to make a total fool of himself if he didn’t have to.  “Is this a date?”

 

_Good Godric!  Please let the ground open up and swallow me now_ , thought Hermione.   

 

“Well, I thought it could be, but if you’re not interested in me that way…”  Hermione’s cheeks were burning.

 

He stepped closer and put his hand on her shoulder.

 

“I was hoping it would be a date.  I am interested in you that way,” Draco assured her.

 

She looked up at him, feeling much better.  He leaned down and kissed her cheek.  He loved seeing her flustered, her cheeks pink, her teeth worrying her bottom lip.

 

He stepped back, giving her a small wave.

 

“Send me your address and I’ll floo to your house,” he requested.

 

“I will.  See you, Malfoy.” She gave him a shy smile. 

 

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

Hermione left work early on Friday afternoon to get ready for her date with Draco.  The London gallery scene was sophisticated and chic.  Hermione chose a short bronze strapless leather dress.  She had purchased it in a high-end consignment store.  The leather was thin and moved with her, the bronze a rich hue that complemented her fair skin and dark hair.  She wore a simple pair of three inch bronze heels.

 

It took over an hour for her to get her hair to hang down her back in shiny waves, rather than the ringlets her hair naturally preferred.  She played up her eyes, lining them with dark brown liner and brushing on mascara to elongate her lashes.  She added just a bit of rosy lip balm and blush to complete the look.

 

She slipped tiny diamond studs into her ears for a bit of sparkle near her face.  

 

Hermione examined herself in the full length mirror.  She enjoyed the opportunity to exercise an artistic flair with her clothing.  The dress draped over her curves beautifully.  The store owner had urged her to try it on, even though Hermione didn’t think it would work for her.  But the craftsmanship of the dress was exquisite.  

 

At 7:00, Hermione heard the floo.  She walked towards her fireplace to greet Draco.

 

“Hi,” she said.  Draco looked at her appreciatively.  

 

“Hi,” he replied.  He leaned down and gently kissed her cheek.  “You look amazing.”  

 

“Thank you.  Let me grab my purse and we can head to the gallery.”  She smiled at him, pleased at his compliment.  

 

Draco took the opportunity to look at his surroundings.  Her house was charming, artistic and full of her personality.  Framed art mixed with pictures of her friends and family.  Her furniture was classic and neutral.  Books were nestled in shelves and baskets and on top of her coffee table.  Draco felt at home in this room, her interests similar to his own.

 

Hermione grabbed her clutch purse and headed towards Draco.  

 

“I’ll Apparate us to a quiet spot near the gallery and we can walk from there,” she explained, taking his hand.  

 

“Lead the way.”             

 

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

The arrived in an alley a few blocks from the gallery.  Hermione guided him towards the sidewalk.  The area was upscale, with restaurants, bars, shops and galleries.  Couples walked hand-in-hand and groups of friends traversed the sidewalks, looking to end their week with a drink or dinner.  

 

Draco noticed the way men eyeballed Granger.  If she observed their attentions, she ignored them, continuing to point out things to Draco as they walked.  

 

They finally reached their destination a few minutes later.  He opened the door for her, then stepped into the brightly lit gallery.  The space was filled with people drinking champagne, talking and perusing the modern paintings on the walls.

 

A flamboyant man in a navy suit and pink tie approached them. 

 

“Hermione!  I’m so glad you could make it.  And who is this beautiful man?” 

 

“Thomas, this is my friend Draco.  Draco, Thomas is a private art dealer.  He helped me purchase my last piece.  He also gives me the inside scoop on new artists.”  

 

Draco held his hand out to Thomas.  “Pleased to meet you.”

 

Thomas laughed and shook Draco’s outstretched hand.  “The pleasure is mine, I can assure you.”  He turned back to Hermione and winked.  “Let me know if you need anything, sweet.”

 

Hermione and Draco exchanged amused looks.  They each took a flute of champagne from a passing waiter and began to examine the art.

 

The modern art in the gallery spoke to Draco on a visceral level.  The intense splashes of color and texture conveyed a spirit and zeal, leaving the viewer to come to his own conclusions.  

 

“This is the painting I’m interested in buying,” Hermione murmured to Draco.  He could understand her choice.  It spoke of longing and loss, but also of hope.  

 

As they browsed, Draco saw a painting he was intrigued by.  He stopped and examined it.  The painting suggested two beings, seemingly pulled together by a force outside of themselves.  The colors of the painting were intense and layered with careful strokes.  The words _attraction_ and _fated_ floated through his mind as he looked at the canvas.

 

“What do you think of this one?” Hermione asked him.  

 

“It’s by far my favorite.  I’m not sure exactly what I think, but it seems passionate and somewhat romantic,” he said, watching Hermione examine the painting.

 

“It does.  It’s sexual as well.  I can feel the figures wanting to join together,” she said.

 

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

Thomas’ partner came up behind him. “Do you think your client will buy that painting?” he said, gesturing to Hermione and Draco.

 

“Yeah, love, look at the intensity between the two of them.  I’m getting turned on watching them.  I’d wager that she picks up that painting.”

 

“I wonder what their story is.  They’re both so unusual looking, like characters from a fairytale.  Her friend looks like a Helmut Lang model.”  

 

Thomas laughed at his partner’s observation and walked over to Hermione and Draco to find out what painting he should help her acquire.

 

“What do you think, Hermione?” Thomas asked her.

 

“Well, I had anticipated buying _Désir_ * but _Lié*_ has piqued my interest.”  She looked at Draco.  

 

“You should pick what you like,” he said to her.

 

Hermione looked at Thomas. “Will you put in my offer to the gallery for _Lié_?”

 

“I will.  I’ll contact you when it’s ready for you to take home.”

 

“Thank you, Thomas.”

 

“My pleasure, Hermione.  Enjoy your evening,” he said to both Draco and Hermione, giving them a small bow.

 

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

“Congratulations,” Draco said as they stepped out of the gallery.

 

“You were right about the painting.  It was the best one in the show.  When we talked about it, I could see that the painting had layers of meaning beyond the initial viewing.”  

 

She put her arm through his as they strolled past restaurants and bars.  

 

“Do you want to get dinner?” he asked.

 

“There’s a tapas bar I’ve wanted to try.  Are you interested?” she asked him.

 

“Are tapas appetizers?”

 

“Yes.  The bar has drinks, appetizers and Latin music.  Every time I pass by, I think it looks fun.”

 

“Ok, but it’s on me this time,” he said.

 

“Do you have pounds?” she whispered.

 

“I got pounds at Gringotts during my lunch hour,” he murmured back.

 

“Well done, Mr. Malfoy,” she said, playfully tugging his arm towards the bar door.

 

The bar was intimate, busy but not crowded, and smelled of wine and herbs and spices.  The seductive sound of a singer crooning could be heard over the buzz of voices and laughter.  Hermione led them to a table in a dimly lit corner.  They sat close together to hear each other. 

 

A waitress took their drink and tapas order and returned with bite-sized appetizers and full glasses of rich Spanish wine.  

 

“Will you bring us the bottle?” he asked the waitress.

 

“Right away,” she said, quickly returning with a bottle of their wine.

 

Hermione relaxed into her seat, sipping the rich wine and enjoying bites of the delicious tapas.  

 

Draco drank his wine, slowly eating bits of food.  

 

“Try this roasted pepper with goat cheese.”  Hermione held the food to his mouth.

 

Draco had enjoyed three flutes of champagne and two glasses of wine and his inhibitions were slightly lower than usual.  He took a bite of the offered food, sucking the tips of her fingers into his mouth.  Looking into her eyes, he took a drink of wine.

 

“Delicious,” he murmured.

 

Draco leaned towards her, his breath hot on her lips.  She felt dizzy with the contact, closing the distance between their lips to feel his firm lips on hers.  His hand went to the back of her neck, pulling her closer to him.  Their mouths opened, each tongue tentatively exploring the other.  The kiss electrified Hermione.  Every stroke, every touch aroused her.  Draco broke the kiss, his hand moving to cup her face.

 

“I’ve dreamed of kissing you for years,” he confessed.

 

“You have?”

 

“Mmm hmm,” he said, gently fingering the bare skin of her back.

 

He pushed her hair away from her neck and inhaled her warm, feminine scent.  He kissed the shell of her ear, down to the thin skin of her graceful neck.  His kisses became more fervent.  Hermione sought his lips again, needing to taste his drugging kisses.  Her hands went into his hair, her nails scraping against his scalp.  

 

A chair raking against the floor brought them out of their private reverie.  

 

Hermione looked into Draco’s lusty eyes, “Come home with me.”

 

Draco nodded, standing up and putting money on the table.

 

“Is that enough?” he asked Hermione.

 

“More than, I think,” she said, grabbing her purse.  As they walked out, Draco wrapped his arm around her waist.

 

The evening had become gusty and chill, but Hermione felt her skin warmed by Draco’s close contact.  They found a quiet alley and Apparated into her living room.  

 

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

As soon as their feet hit the living room floor, they flew into each other’s arms, mouths needy, hands desperate to explore unknown places.  Breaking the kiss, Draco pulled off his cashmere sweater and kicked off his shoes, while Hermione did the same with her heels.  Hermione grabbed his hand and pulled him to her  bedroom.

 

They stood, undressing each other.  Draco turned her to unzip the back of her dress.  It slipped to the floor and Hermione stepped out of it.  Draco let her unbutton his dress shirt, her hands caressing his chest through the soft material.  She took out his cufflinks and walked them over to sit atop her dresser.  

 

The sight of Hermione’s body covered only by a nude colored strapless bra and sheer boy shorts was incredibly erotic to Draco.  She walked back to him, her hands deftly unbuckling his belt.  Draco lightly ran his hands over her shoulders, her arms.  She unbuttoned his pants, but Draco stopped her.  He stepped back to unzip and kick off the trousers and boxers.  He stood naked before her, his body pale and lightly muscled.  His erection made her breath catch.  He was larger than she expected.  

 

They kept eye contact as she unhooked her bra and let it fall to the floor.  Her breasts were round and full, with tight pink nipples.  He stepped into her space, his hands finding the round weights.  She took in a shaky breath at the contact.  She could feel his erection lightly grazing her stomach.  That, along with his attention to her breasts, made her moan.

 

Draco knelt in front of her.  He kissed her belly while his hands stroked over her legs.  His mouth trailed kisses down to the v between her legs.  He inhaled her sweet, musky smell, using his nose and mouth to rub against her moist mound through the sheer material of her knickers.  He felt Hermione sway.  Quickly, he pulled her knickers down, lifting her feet to take them off her legs.  

 

Draco stood and kissed Hermione and backed them up to her bed.  At the edge of the bed, she sat down.  Draco stood before her, his erection near her lips.  She looked up at him and took his cock into her hand, gently caressing the smooth skin.  

 

“Fuck, that feels so good,” he groaned.  Hermione’s movements had him leaking fluid from the slit at the top of his penis.  She rubbed the slippery liquid into the broad head of him, then leaned down and pressed her lips to his hardness.  He looked down, relishing the sight of this goddess whose touch made him feel like he was on fire.  If she continued, Draco knew he wouldn’t last.  He gently pulled back from her.

 

“Lay on the bed,” he murmured, her eyes shining in the darkened room.  When she licked her lips, he groaned.  

 

Draco crawled between her open legs and kissed her.  His tongue massaged hers provocatively as he moved himself between her thighs, his large cock nudging at her slick opening.  She thrust her hips towards him in invitation and he pushed himself into her tightness.  He stopped, giving her a moment to adjust to his size.  Draco looked at her flushed face.  She looked back, amazed at the intensity in his eyes.  Her hands ran over his shoulders and arms.  

 

“Is this…good?” Hermione whispered.  Though she felt like his every touch left her rapturous, she hoped he felt the same way.

 

“Merlin, witch, you feel bloody amazing.”

 

She nodded and closed her eyes, concentrating on the incredible way her body felt.

 

Then he began to thrust into her, getting a feel for her body.  He closed his eyes and focused on the sensations he could feel: her breath against him, her fingernails scratching his back, the little involuntary moans that kept coming out of her mouth.

 

He began to move faster, his pelvic bone nicking her clit on every up stroke.  Her nails dug into his shoulders, her legs braced on the bed to meet his thrusts with her own.

 

Soon she was wailing his name, her upward thrusts meeting his as an orgasm crested and overcame her body.  Draco could feel her cunt squeezing him rhythmically.  He let go, his body pounding into hers.

 

“Fuck!” he yelled as he came.

 

He collapsed on top of her and she gathered him close, her arms wrapping around his back, her legs twining with his.

 

As much as he enjoyed fucking her, he luxuriated in her closeness to him.  Hermione Granger had dimensions Draco hoped he could discover, if she was willing to have him in her life.  

 

He pulled out of her, their mingled fluids wetting her thighs.  _The sex was so raw_ , Draco thought, _but so incredibly hot_.  He pulled her to him, her arm automatically going around his waist.  

 

“Hermione,” he began, before noticing her closed eyes and deep breathing.

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Thank you.”

 

She gave a tired chuckle, “Sleep.”

 

He smiled into her thick hair. “Yes, sleep.”

        

      

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Silentium is Latin for silence. Désir is French for desire. Lié is French for connected.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saturday: After

The next morning, Draco woke to an empty bed.  He had a sinking feeling that Hermione regretted what they had done the night before.  He put on his rumpled clothing and used her loo.  He decided he would find his shoes and sweater in the living room and if she was around, he would say goodbye.  

 

As he walked to her living room, she saw him from the kitchen.

 

“Draco, can I get you some coffee?”  She turned to pour him a cup of coffee.  “Do you take cream and sugar?”

 

“I’ll have it black,” he said.  

 

She set the cup in front of him, clearing some notes off her kitchen table.  

 

When Hermione sat down with her own cup of sweet, creamy coffee, Draco looked at her.  She looked so beautiful in her silky red robe, with her hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun.  

 

He put his hand atop her hand.  “Do you regret what we did last night?”

 

“No, not at all.  Do you?”

 

“No, no.  You’re incredible.”  

 

“You surprise me, Draco Malfoy.  Do you know that last night was the first night I slept for more than three hours at a time?  Did you know that you’re the first person I’ve talked to about a book idea that hasn’t tuned me out in thirty seconds?  Did you know,” she said, blushing, “that you’re the first man that made me orgasm?”

 

He tugged her towards him, pulling her onto his lap.

 

“I didn’t know,” he said, hugging her close.  

 

She peppered kisses over his face.  He let out a breath he had been unconsciously holding in.

 

“You know what everyone thinks of me, right?  You saw how they reacted to us in Diagon Alley.  Are you prepared to deal with that every time people see us?”  He wanted her to understand the liability he could be to her life.

 

“I don’t care what other people think.  I can’t live my life worrying about everyone’s expectations.”  She looked into his worried eyes.  “And you can’t either, Draco.  I think it’s time the two of us started living.”

 

He nodded.  She was, of course, correct.  He lightly kissed her lips, enjoying the skin privileges she’d allowed him.

 

“Can I make us breakfast now?” she asked him.

 

“I could definitely eat.”

 

Hermione kissed his forehead and got off his lap.  He watched her whip up a meal of ham and cheese omelets, enjoying the chance to watch her in the soft morning light.  

 

“This looks good, Granger,” he said as she put a plate in front of him.

 

“Mrs. Weasley taught me to cook.  She has magical chickens that can each lay six eggs per day, so their family eats a lot of eggs.  I always enjoyed her omelets,” she said, shrugging.

 

“Do you see Weasley and Potter often?” he asked.

 

“Not really.  They both have demanding jobs and families.”  

 

“I don’t read The Prophet, so I didn’t know Weasley was married.  I figured Potter would have married Ginny,” he said.

 

“Harry’s an assistant coach for the Cannons and Ron plays for them.  Ron’s married to Cassandra, who is lovely.  They have a four month old, Edward.  Cassandra grew up in Germany, but her mother is English.”  

 

“Are you close to your parents?” he asked.  He had the impression, while they were at Hogwarts, that she was.

 

She looked at the table.  “We have a complicated relationship.  They don’t like some of the decisions I’ve made.”

 

He wanted to know more, but knew she would tell him more when she was ready.

 

“Are you doing anything today?” 

 

Hermione shook her head.  “Not really, just puttering about the house.”

 

“Do you want some company?” he asked.

 

“I would,” she said, smiling at him.

 

 ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

 

Hermione’s one story house consisted of a living room, an eat-in kitchen, her bedroom, a guest room she mainly used as her office, and a bathroom.  It was roughly the same size as Draco’s ocean-side cottage.  She had painted the walls in warm neutral colors and the trim was bright white.  The art, photographs, books and plants added character to each room.

 

“Where do you think you’ll put your new painting?” Draco asked.

 

“I had thought of putting it above the fireplace in the living room, but now I think I may put it above the bed in my room,” she said thoughtfully.

 

Draco could see Hermione treated her house with care and pride.  The windows were shiny and the wooden floors glowed.  There was no dust to be seen on any surface.  

 

Her bedroom walls were covered with light tan grasscloth wallpaper.  Her furniture was simple, dark wood.  Her aquamarine bedding was luxurious with high thread count sheets.  The down comforter was covered by a smooth, fine cotton duvet.  A few throw pillows in silver and gold silk broke up the blue-green of the bedding.

 

She led him out the door to her kitchen garden.  

 

“Granger, did you do all this by yourself?” he asked incredulously.

 

“I did.  There was nothing here when I bought the house, just some scraggly grass.  But at least I had the trees to work with.”

 

Hermione’s property was in a remote country area, surrounded by lush fields as far as the eye could see.  A white picket fence enclosed her yard.  Three large trees canopied the right side of the yard, while the other side of the yard had a large vegetable garden.  A table and chairs were nestled under the trees.  A hammock swung between the large oaks.  

 

“Will you hold this so I can pick some vegetables?” she said, handing Draco a basket.  He took it from her and followed her into the garden rows.

 

Hermione knelt down to pull out a dark orange carrot.  “I’ve been waiting to pull this carrot.  It’s perfect,” she said, wiping away some dirt.  

 

Draco held out the basket for her to put the carrot in.  “What about this one?” he said, pointing to a carrot pushing through the earth.

 

“Do you want to pull it?” 

 

“Sure.”  He pulled up a reddish purple carrot.  He knocked off the dirt and put it into the basket.

 

Hermione used a small spade to dig up potatoes.  “I think there are more, but I don’t want to bore you,” she said to Draco, handing him another potato.  

 

“It seems rewarding.”

 

“It is!  I plant these tiny seeds and get these nourishing, lovely veggies.  And since I like to cook, it’s fun to figure out how to use all this food.”

 

“Are you able to eat all of it?” he wondered.

 

“No.  I share some of it with Ginny and Cassandra.  I preserve some of the food by canning or dehydrating it.  The potatoes and carrots will keep in a cool environment.”

 

“It looks like you had more,” he observed, pointing at the tomato plants, which were no longer producing.

 

“I had tomatoes coming out of my ears this past summer,” Hermione laughed.  “I am actually a bit sick of tomatoes, at the moment.  But I have marinara sauce for the next few years.”

 

“I would gladly take some off your hands,” Draco offered, smiling at her.  _So many facets to this woman_ , he thought.

 

“Yes!  I’ll send you home with some,” she agreed.

 

They continued to walk through the garden, Hermione picking vegetables here and there.  Before he knew it, Draco had a full basket of food.

 

“It’s exciting to see where your food comes from,” Draco said.

 

“I think so,” she said, walking towards the house.  “Fancy lying on the couch and reading?”

 

“Sure.”      

  

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

Hermione placed the basket of food on her kitchen counter and got them glasses of iced tea.  The fall afternoon was unusually warm.  

 

Draco was perusing her books, when he found one he wanted to read.  He grabbed it and settled on her couch.  Hermione handed him a glass of tea.

 

“Thanks, Granger,” he said, enjoying a gulp of the cold, sweet tea.

 

He lifted his legs up and Hermione sat at the end of the couch.  “You can put your feet in my lap,” she said as he began to sit up.

 

Quickly, both were immersed in their books.  Hermione began to absentmindedly stroke Draco’s feet as she read.  He sighed happily, closing his eyes.  Her touch was so relaxing.  Hermione noticed his tranquil expression and put down her book so she could massage his feet with both hands.  

 

“Feels brilliant,” he mumbled.

 

She chuckled at his state of relaxation and continued rubbing his long, pale feet.  She found touching him to be calming as well.  She had gathered that Draco didn’t spend time with people very often, if at all.  That would explain his initial awkwardness with her.  She at least had contact with her friends every few weeks.  But they didn’t give her foot massages, she mused.

 

“Come over here,” Draco muttered, his eyes still closed.  His arms opened to embrace Hermione.

 

She laid on top of his solid body, her head tucked under his chin.  He held her close, the smell of her unwashed hair slightly musky after their activities the night before.  Draco combed through her long hair with his fingers, lightly scraping her back in the process. His other hand rested on the small of her back.

 

“Keep doing that,” she said into his chest.

 

He snaked his hand under her t-shirt to feel the smooth skin of her back.  His hand traveled over her spine, unhooking her bra to better feel her skin.  

 

Hermione’s breath hitched.  She could feel him hardening underneath her.  His other hand slid under the waistband of her jeans to fondle her round bottom.  Hermione tilted her head to find his lips.  Their kiss was slow, his tongue unhurriedly massaging hers.  She broke the kiss, her forehead resting against his.  

 

“I can’t get enough of you,” she whispered.

 

He pushed them both up into a sitting position.  Her whispered words allowed him to give in to his desire.  Her shirt came off, along with her unhooked bra, then his shirt.  With some shifting, they were both out of their pants.  The afternoon light allowed them to study each other’s bodies.  She had forgotten to hide her cursed _Mudblood_ scar.  He hadn’t seen it since that horrible day in the manor.  It had lightened, but was still visible.  

 

She studied the skull and snake of his Dark Mark.  It was the green of a fading tattoo, but was still a stark contrast to his fair skin.  His chest held the scar from the curse Harry had used on him sixth year.  It was faint, since Snape had used the counter-curse so quickly.  Hermione remembered how angry she had been at Harry for using it against Malfoy.  

 

Hermione watched Draco’s expression darken as he studied their scars.  She brought his arm to her lips and traced it with her tongue.  He was still, unsure of her intentions.

 

“It’s time to move on.”

 

He gently fingered her scar.  “I’ll try.”

 

She straddled him, his hands resting on her hips.  She felt his broad head flirting with her entrance.  He lifted his hands to her breast, cupping them and rubbing his thumbs over her nipples.  The teasing touch on her sensitive tips felt like torture.  She rubbed her wet entrance over his cock and slowly began to sink onto him.  He took one nipple into his mouth, the sucking making her pussy twinge in delight.  

 

“Your tits are fucking perfect,” he growled.

 

She threw her head back and closed her eyes while she rocked atop him.  He continued to suck on her nipples, his other hand pinching the pink bud until Hermione gasped.

 

Draco began to thrust harder.  His hands traveled to her arse, roughly massaging her round backside and moving her to feel every bit of her tightness.  She moaned in response to his aggressiveness, enjoying the possessive way he touched her.

 

“Draco, oh Merlin, yes, yes!” she yelled to the ceiling.

 

“Keep riding me, Granger!” he said, roughly pistoning into her.  Her orgasm triggered his own a few seconds later.

 

His breathing was heavy as he held her body close to his.  She nuzzled and kissed his neck, enjoying the feeling of his warm seed in her sensitive passage.

 

The cottage air was cool against their sweat-dampened skin.  Draco felt goose bumps along Hermione’s back.

 

“Are you cold?”

 

“A bit.  But very relaxed,” she said softly.

 

Draco moved them so she was lying on top of him, her head nestled under his chin.  He pulled a throw off the back of her sofa and covered her as best he could.

 

“Can you breathe?” 

 

He chucked.  “Yeah.  It’s…nice…that you and I, um, fit together.”

 

She placed a kiss on his chest.  “It is nice.”

 

They didn’t say anything else, both relishing the feel a new connection beginning to develop.  Soon, Hermione felt Draco’s hold loosen and his breathing even out.  She let herself drift off, warm, safe, and content in the arms of her fair-haired lover.  

 

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

Hermione woke before Draco and tried to gently extricate herself from him, but ended up waking him in the process.  

 

“Hey,” he said, blinking his eyes in the fading light of the living room.  

 

She sat up, sitting on his thighs.  One hand rested on his chest, the other on the back of the sofa.

 

“Hey to you,” she said, smiling at his relaxed posture.  

 

She was amazed at the level of intimacy they had achieved in their short time together.  She had slept with Ron twice after the war and she knew after the second time that they did not have chemistry.  Her second year of work in the Department of Mysteries she had met a researcher who had wandered into her library looking for something on goblin magic.  Philbin had asked her out and she had agreed, though he was at least twenty years older than she was.  She didn’t think that would be such an issue, but he condescended to her at the most awful times.  When Philbin insisted that she’d orgasmed when she had not, she was too annoyed and frustrated to see him any more.  

 

With Draco, she felt chemistry and companionship.  Her fear was that he was lonely and that was his main reason for his interest in her.  That was her insecurity talking and she tried to put those fears in the back of her mind.  She chastised herself for wondering if he would marry a Muggle-born, if their relationship went where she hoped it might.        

 

His stomach grumbled.

 

“Can you stay for dinner?” she asked him.

 

“If that’s not too much,” he replied, stroking his fingers over her thighs.  “I don’t want to abuse your hospitality.”

 

“Is beef stew okay?  I wanted to use the potatoes and carrots from the garden.”

 

“As you can hear, I am hungry and beef stew would be perfect.  Tell me what I can do to help you.”  

 

They dressed and freshened up, then got to work preparing the meal.  Draco helped chop veggies while Hermione sautéed the beef for the stew.  She deglazed the pan with red wine, giving the stew a rich base of flavors.  Draco, who had never cooked with anyone else, was impressed by her skills.  

 

He was actually impressed with her in general.  He’d admitted he had harbored feelings for her as a teen, but she was an incredible woman now.  He found it shocking that she hadn’t coupled up with someone, but he acknowledged that she wasn’t the type of woman a man could take lightly.  She _was_ intimidating, but the more he got to know her, the more he saw her skills and intelligence as something interesting about her.  He was still curious as to why she had opened herself up to him, but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.  He would take what she offered and reciprocate as much as he could and when she moved on, he would try to accept it.         

 

“Do you want a beer?” she asked, pulling Draco out of his thoughts.

 

“Sure.”  He smiled as she passed him a can of Guiness.  

 

“What do you usually do during the weekend?” she asked him.

 

“My weekends are usually quiet.  I do chores around my house that I didn’t get to during the week, shop for food, read, ride my broom over the ocean—“  

 

He stopped when she inhaled a deep breath and shook her head.  “Sorry.  I have a acrophobia.”

 

“Yes, I vaguely remember that,” he said, taking a swig of his beer.  “That’s all I really do when I have time to myself.  Oh, I like to draw.”

 

“Do you think you’ll be able to fit me into your dating schedule?  I can be quite demanding,” she said, winking at him.

 

“I think I can accommodate you,” he said, picking up her hand and kissing her finger tips.  

 

The last woman he had slept with had been an old friend of his mother’s, Freya Hauser.  She had approached him one of the few times he had ventured into the Leaky Cauldron for a drink.  The whole interaction from beginning to end had been borne out of desperation on his part.  Freya had been nice to him, but he wasn’t particularly attracted to her.  She was pretty in that delicate, fussy pure-blood way he was accustomed to seeing in his parents’ circle.  After that encounter, he had avoided engaging in any kind of liason.  He would rather be alone than to get involved in something tepid and uncomfortable.

 

He thought that all those years of aggression between him and Hermione had eradicated the initial awkwardness most couples encountered.  She had seen his worst side and still seemed to like him.  Now they were getting to know each other as lovers rather than enemies, as adults rather than children.  She had said she couldn’t get enough of him and he felt the same way.  He had fantasized about her from the age of fourteen on, but nothing he previously knew of her prepared him for the _rightness_ of actually being with her.  Though he was happy to enjoy her now, he worried that he would be even more alone when their affair ended.  Missing someone was much worse than not knowing what you were missing. 

 

Hermione put out a sleeve of crisps for them to munch on while they waited for the stew to cook.  They chatted, enjoying the normality of having someone to discuss things with.  Soon the stew was ready and they voraciously ate the hearty fare.

 

When it was clear dinner was done, Draco told Hermione he should go back to his cottage for the night.

 

“I would imagine we both could use a long shower and a change of clothes,” she said, laughing.

 

“Yes, that would be number one on my list,” he agreed, smiling at her.

 

She got up to walk him to the door.  They walked side by side, their bodies brushing.  When they reached the door, Draco lowered his mouth to Hermione’s waiting lips. His intent was a sweet, goodbye kiss, but the moment their lips met in farewell it developed into something more.  Draco’s tongue stroked hers with certainty, his hands splayed possessively on her back, pulling her closer to him.  Her hands went to his chest, feeling his firm pecs through his shirt.  Hermione melted into his touch.  Never had a kiss been a gateway to a total loss of her inhibitions, but Draco’s kisses left her feeling needy and ready for him.  Finally, they broke apart, both trying to catch their breath.  

 

“If I don’t go now, you’ll never get me to leave,” Draco murmured.  

 

“You don’t have to go,” Hermione said into his chest.

 

“Let’s not rush this.  If I leave now, this will have been the been the best weekend I’ve ever had.”

 

“We’ll have other perfect weekends.”

 

Hermione’s words warmed Draco.  In that moment, he wished to Merlin that he would have other opportunities to bask in Hermione’s attention.  

 

“We will.  I’ll see you for lunch on Monday?”

 

She looked up at him.  “I have lunch plans with Ginny on Monday.  Do you want to have dinner after work, somewhere Muggle?”

 

“Yes.  I’ll find you in the library and we can go from there.”

 

Hermione smiled at him and stepped back.  “Goodnight, Draco.”

 

She watched him walk out her door and Disapparate into the night.  Taking a deep, calming breath, she walked to the kitchen to clean up.  She used her wand to spell the kitchen clean, then headed to her bathroom to shower.

 

As she stood under the stream of hot water, her mind replayed the last twenty-four hours.  For the first time in her life, she had thought about her future with someone else and it seemed a very real possibility.  She knew Draco had as much, if not more, baggage than she did.  He had adapted to his change in status and had created a quiet, simple life for himself, much like she had.  

 

When she got into bed that night, Hermione drifted off to sleep to the lingering smell of sex and Draco’s scent. 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Work, little contact, lunch with Ginny, then dinner

When Draco got to work on Monday morning, he went into the library, but Hermione wasn’t there yet.  He had brought her a cup of coffee.  He left it on her desk, charmed to stay hot, with a little drawing of a happy cup of coffee surrounded by hearts.  

 

_Salazar, I can’t believe I just drew that._

 

Draco went back to his office to work on the Silentium.

 

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

When Hermione got into her office and saw the coffee and drawing, she chuckled and shook her head.  She didn’t know this side of Draco, but she liked it.   

 

She took a careful sip of the brew.  He must have noticed how she took her coffee, because it was perfect.  

 

Hermione had missed him on Sunday.  She was surprised that she had become accustomed to having Draco in her house over that short period of time.  They meshed well.  His presence wasn’t overbearing and she didn’t feel like he was a guest she had to cater to.  It was natural to have him in her home, sharing her day.  

 

She absent-mindedly walked about the library, sipping her coffee.  Unable to concentrate on any real work, she decided to do some paperwork she had been putting off.  She let that boring task occupy her time until she was scheduled to meet with Ginny Potter. 

 

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

Ginny was waiting when Hermione got to the café.  Immediately, Ginny noticed that Hermione seemed perkier than usual.

 

Hermione put her bag down and hugged Ginny.

 

“It’s good to see you,” Hermione said to the youngest Weasley.  

 

“You, too.  You look great.  Let’s order and then you can tell me why you look like the cat that ate the canary.”

 

Hermione laughed.  Ginny never minced words.

 

They ordered food and drinks, then settled in for a chat.

 

“So?” Ginny asked.

 

“Well, I’m seeing someone.  It’s kind of new, but I think there are possibilities.”

 

“Who?  Is it that cute Auror I’ve seen eyeing you at Ministry events?”  

 

“I don’t remember a cute Auror, but anyway, it’s not an Auror.  Someone from my department, actually.”  Hermione wasn’t ready to let Ginny in on Draco’s identity.

 

“Please tell me it’s not another Philbin, Hermione,” Ginny groaned.

 

“No, he’s nothing like Philbin.  He’s very private, so I’ll introduce him once I know our relationship is slightly more serious.”

 

Ginny smiled at Hermione, “Okay, my friend, I’ll let you keep your silence if you answer my next question.  How was the sex?”

 

Hermione gaped at Ginny.  “Why do you think we’ve slept together?”

 

“Answer my question and I’ll quit pestering you,” Ginny said smugly.

 

“It was…amazing.  Hot.  Passionate.”  

 

The waitress brought their food and the women dug into their entrees.  

 

“When you first sleep with someone and there’s chemistry, it’s…”  Ginny looked at her friend.  “It’s like a drug.  You can’t wait for your next hit.”

 

Hermione nodded.  “That’s exactly how I feel.  I can’t get enough.  But it’s not just great shagging.  He’s really interesting.  We have a lot in common.”

 

“I’m so happy for you, Hermione.  If anyone deserves a wonderful man, it’s you.”

 

Ginny and Harry had worried about Hermione over the years.  Hermione spent a great deal of time alone.  She declined most invitations from Ron and Harry, because she tended to feel like a fifth wheel.  Ginny had attempted to set Hermione up on dates, but it was clear Hermione wasn’t interested.  Between Ginny and Harry, they agreed that their friend was a bit different.  They loved her, but she wasn’t the type of woman most men understood.  Ginny hoped this man could make Hermione happy.

 

When they finished their meal, Ginny took Hermione to a new dress boutique.

 

“Hermione, look at this dress,” Ginny said, pointing to a crème one-shoulder gown.  

 

Hermione examined the dress.  “I love it, but when would I wear it?”  

 

“You’ll find a reason to wear something this beautiful.  Just try it on!”  

 

Hermione took it to a dressing room and slipped on the gown.  Ginny was right, the dress fit her beautifully.  

 

Ginny opened the door and stared open-mouthed at Hermione.  “It’s perfect, Hermione.”

 

Ginny paid for her items and waited for Hermione to pay for the dress. 

 

They walked out of the boutique and embraced.

 

“Thank you for the lovely lunch, Mrs. Potter,” Hermione said to Ginny.

 

“Let me know if you want to unburden yourself,” Ginny said, wiggling her eyebrows.  Hermione laughed.

 

“You’ll be the first person I’ll call,” Hermione promised.

 

Ginny went back to Grimmauld Place, pleased she could share some positive news with her husband.  

 

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

 

The day dragged more than usual for Draco.  He had figured out a small aspect of the Silentium, so at least the day wasn’t a wash.  He had been reading through the books Hermione had pulled for him.  There was so much to presence/absence magical theory he didn’t know.  He had been using his intuition, magical, and mechanical senses to figure out how to fix objects, but now he might be able to use documented information to assist him in his work.  

 

He entered the library to find Hermione at her desk, quill to parchment.  Draco took a moment to study her.  She wore a silky forest green blouse.  Her hair curled down her back in ringlets.  She wore simple gold hoops and a gold chain around her neck.

 

Hermione looked up to find Draco studying her.

 

“Draco!  Have you been waiting long?”

 

“Yes.  I’ve been waiting all day,” he said, smirking at her.

 

She stood up, adjusting her camel colored pencil skirt.  When she stepped out from behind the desk, Draco admired her curvy legs in tan heels.

 

Hermione walked up to Draco and wrapped her arms around him.

 

“Thank you for the coffee this morning,” she said into his chest.

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

After spending years on the fringes of society, it was like a cold drink of water on a hot summer’s day to have Hermione’s affections.  Draco hadn’t grown up with physical affection, so it was strange and wonderful to be around someone who didn’t shy away from showing her feelings through touch.  He hugged her back, happy to have pleased her with his offering.  

 

Draco helped her put on her coat and they walked out of the Ministry towards an Apparation point.  Hermione told Draco about her day and asked about his progress with the Silentium.  It was particularly chilly on this evening and Hermione stayed near Draco’s warm body.  Once they were in Muggle London, he put his arm around her shoulders.

 

“Fall is my favorite time of year,” Hermione told him.  “There’s something so beautiful about the leaves changing color before they fall off the trees.”

 

“I don’t have a favorite season, but I did like going back to school in September.”  

 

“How did you spend your summers as a child?” Hermione asked.

 

“Pure-blood families like mine don’t spend a lot of time with their children.  I had a tutor come every day and we would practice French and Latin.  I also had an art teacher who came by twice a week.”

 

“Did you see anyone else?”

 

“Not really.  If my parents were at the Manor, I would have dinner with them.”

 

The idea of Draco so isolated as a child made Hermione’s heart melancholy.  

 

“What about you?  How did you spend your summers?”

 

“My parents were of the opinion that a busy child was a happy child, so I went to day camps for different activities I was interested in like science, which is similar to Potions, music, Socratic seminars in philosophy.  It became harder when I was an older teen because I wanted to be around other magical people.”  

 

“You must have felt like you were hiding,” Draco observed.

 

“I did to a certain extent.  I’m comfortable in the Muggle world, but my life is rooted in magic.  As soon as I knew I was a witch, I was relieved to know why I was always so different from other children.”

 

They reached the bistro and were seated at a small table.  

 

“I haven’t had French food for ages,” Draco told Hermione.

 

“Do you like it?”  

 

“I do.”

 

Again, Hermione had brought Draco to a sophisticated Muggle locale, which was chipping away at the preconceived notions he had about Muggles.  He no longer looked down at half-blood and Muggle-born witches and wizards, but he had not had the opportunity to mingle with Muggles.  

 

“Would you order for us?” Hermione asked Draco.  “I’m not very picky.  I’m sure what you pick will be delicious.”

 

“Okay.  I’m going to order what I like, but I think you’ll like it, too.  Shall we order wine?”

 

“Definitely.”

 

They started their meal with _soupe au pistou_ *.  

 

“Have you been to France?” Hermione asked Draco.

 

“My mother’s grandmother lived in the Provence region of France and she left her home to me when she died.  I went last Christmas holiday to check on the property.”  

 

Hermione had thought the Ministry took Draco’s inheritance as part of his family’s reparations, but perhaps he was left with some resources.  She was thankful he hadn’t been left penniless after his parents went to Azkaban.  

 

“You’ll have to tell me about the house.  I’m fascinated by all things French.”

 

“Granger, have you not been to France?”  

 

“I haven’t.”  She gave him a little shrug. 

 

Draco would rectify that soon.

 

The waitress brought out a large plate of _bourride_ * after she cleared their bowls.  The fragrant fish was steaming and the vegetables looked tender.

 

Hermione took a bite of her fish and chewed thoughtfully.  “It’s delicious.”

 

Draco lowered his voice, “I didn’t know Muggles lived so well.  Every place you’ve taken me has been very, um, worldly.”  

 

“I think if you spent some time in the Muggle world, you would be very comfortable, Draco.  The wizarding world is amazing, but the Muggle world is just as complex.”

 

Hermione was delighted that Draco could appreciate the Muggle world he had so far encountered.  She hoped that eventually he would see Muggles as equal to magical people.  His beliefs had clearly changed over the years, but he hadn’t had the opportunity to engage in Muggle culture until now.  

 

Draco ordered crème brûlée for their dessert.  

 

“I’ve tried to make crème brûlée at home, but I can never quite get the custard to set,” Draco admitted to Hermione.

 

“It’s one of my favorite desserts.  I’m glad you chose it, but I’ve liked everything you picked.”

 

When the dessert came, Hermione let Draco have the majority of the creamy, sweet custard.  She could tell he was savoring it.  When he got to the last bit, he scooped it onto his spoon and lifted it to her lips.  She closed her eyes as she took the spoon into her mouth, relishing the romance of having her lover feed her.  

 

Draco watched her, feeling himself become aroused.

 

The server brought their check and Hermione went to her purse to find her wallet.  

 

“I’ve got it,” he said.  He put a shiny black credit card out for the server to take.

 

“Where did you get a credit card?”

 

Draco murmured, “When I got pounds, the goblin I spoke with explained that if I planned on paying for things in the Muggle world, it would be more convenient to use a card, so I ordered one.”

 

“I didn’t know Gringotts had a credit card.  I’ll have to get one.  It would be much easier than exchanging my money all the time.”

 

“I’m surprised they didn’t tell you about it,” Draco said.

 

“Well, I’m not exactly a favorite there.”

 

“Hermione, are you telling me that the rumors that you broke in are true?”  Draco was flabbergasted.  

 

“Between us, they are true, but I could never admit it.  The goblins are a terrible enemy.”  She took in Draco’s shocked face and giggled.

 

He shook his head.  “Even You-Know-Who avoided Gringotts.  I just can’t believe the three of you were able to get past the spells and enchantments on the building.”

 

Draco signed the bill and they left the restaurant.  

 

“It’s cold in the city,” Hermione said, burrowing into her coat.

 

“Let’s go back to my place,” Draco suggested.

 

“That sounds good.  We can Apparate from one of these alleys.”

 

Draco put his arm around her waist and Apparated them to the sandy beach, but he was distracted and they landed a few feet from the water.

 

Hermione turned to look at the full moon.  “The beach is mesmerizing at night,” she said, looking at the waves and the moon-illuminated sand.

 

Draco pulled her close and kissed her.  She clasped her hands behind his neck, gently fingering the silky strands at the back of his head.  All of a sudden, a wave soaked them with frigid ocean water. 

 

Hermione shrieked and clung to Draco.  They looked at each other and burst into peals of laughter.  

 

“Merlin, Draco!”

 

“I am so sorry, Granger!  Let’s get you inside.”  

 

Hermione’s teeth were chattering as they walked the short distance to his porch.  Draco let them into the cottage and they began to take off their coats, shoes and sodden clothes.  

 

“Let me dry you off,” Draco said, pointing his wand at Hermione.  She felt his magic dry her, but she was still chilled.  Draco dried himself off, then led her to the couch in front of the fireplace.

 

Draco magically lit a fire and pulled Hermione onto his lap.  He wrapped a blanket around the two of them.

 

“I’m warming up a bit,” she said.

 

“That wasn’t how I had thought the evening would end,” Draco chuckled.

 

“I like this,” Hermione said, cuddling into his body.  

 

Draco held her, but realized after a few minutes that Hermione had fallen asleep.  

 

“Let’s get you into bed, love,” he whispered, holding her close and carrying her up the stairs to his bed.

 

He got her into the bed and covered her with the comforter and an extra blanket.  He cast a mild warming charm on the bedding.  Draco wasn’t tired, but the idea of spooning with Hermione’s warm, pliant body was irresistible to him.  He crawled under the covers next to her, his arm circling her waist.  In her sleep, she snuggled closer to his body.

 

Draco thought about this odd turn of events with the woman lying beside him.  They worked in the same department, but he hadn’t encountered her until the day he found her reaching for a book in Flourish & Blotts.  She was the first person he had encountered in years that hadn’t treated him like a liability.  

 

And if anyone deserved her scorn, it was Draco.  He had been hateful to her as a child.  She had the type of character that Draco had rarely encountered.  He understood that she didn’t hold his ignorance against him.  He knew enough about human nature to understand that she wasn’t perfect, but to him, she was pretty close.  He wanted them to exist in the bubble they had created, without interference.

 

Contentment and warmth lulled Draco into sleep.  

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soupe au pistou is bean soup served with fine-chopped basil, garlic and Parmesan. Bourride is white fish stewed with vegetables and wine, garnished with aioli.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Playing Hooky, Part 1

The next morning, Draco woke at the time he normally did for work.  It was hard to leave Hermione in his bed.  His sleep had been deep and restful.

 

He carefully slipped out of the bed and took his morning shower.  The first floor of his house was cool, so he lit the fire and started the coffee.  He had plenty of time before he had to be at the Ministry, so he decided to make pumpkin muffins.    

 

_I wonder if my life would be this fulfilled if Hermione and I were in a relationship?  I feel hopeful just being with her.  What would my life be like if she were mine?_

 

Draco pondered these questions as he put the muffins into the oven.  He sat and drank his black brew, savoring the slightly bitter, addictive flavor.  The second floor creaked under Hermione’s footfalls.  He heard a door close and water running.  The oven pinged and Draco took the muffins out of the oven.

 

A few minutes later, Hermione came downstairs.  She wore one of his shirts, since her clothes were in a heap near the front door.  Her hair was wild.  Draco had spent much of his class time at Hogwarts staring at her unruly curls.      

 

“Good morning,” she said to Draco, smiling shyly at him.  “I borrowed one of your shirts.  I hope that’s okay?”

 

“Of course.  Can I get you some coffee?  You probably have to get ready for work soon.”

 

She gave him an impish look.  “Do you want to play hooky today?”

 

He grinned at her.  “Granger, Granger, Granger.  You are not a good influence.  I’ve never missed a day of work in three years.”

 

“I very rarely miss work, but I really don’t want to go in today.”

 

“I’d love to skip with you.  Let me send an owl for us.”  Draco called his owl Maximilian after they had written notes to their department secretary, letting her know they were not coming in.  

 

“The muffins smell wonderful, Malfoy.  I have high expectations after the tasty dinner you prepared for me.”  

 

Draco handed her a mug of coffee, prepared the way she liked it.  She took a long sip.  

 

“Good coffee.”

 

“Thanks.   Can I get you a muffin?” he asked.

 

“Yes, please.”

 

Draco handed her a muffin on a plate.  She took a bite and gave a satisfied sigh.

 

“I’m sorry I fell asleep last night.  I remember feeling warm and cozy and then I woke up in your bed this morning.”

 

“Don’t apologize.  You fell asleep rather quickly after we began to warm up.  Is it okay that you slept here?  You didn’t stir when I picked you up and moved you to the bed.”

 

“Yes, I appreciate that you let me share your bed.”

 

“You’re always welcome here, Hermione.  I like having you in my home.”  Draco laced their fingers together over the table.  

 

“I like being here, too,” she said, squeezing his hand.

 

“I know I’ve been awful to you in the past and I’m grateful you’re able to look past that, to the person I am now.”  He needed Hermione to know that he knew she was taking a chance on him.

 

“I do know you’ve changed.  I could tell as soon as you helped me at Flourish & Blotts.  I know people have been really horrid to you, but you’ve handled it very gracefully.  I could learn something from that.”  

 

“What do you mean?  I don’t really interact with anyone.  I don’t have friends.”

 

“You work, you have a lovely home, you take care of yourself, you have hobbies.  When it was a possibility I might yell at you in the bookstore, you still helped me.  That says something about your character.  And you have one friend now, Draco.”

 

Draco thought about what Hermione had said.  He knew he was doing the best he could given the circumstances and it was nice that Hermione could see that.  

 

“You’re right.  But I think life could be so much more.  My life’s already better with you in it.”

 

Hermione gave Draco a big smile.  “My life is better with you in it, too.”  

 

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

They went into the living room to sit in front of the fire and drink their coffee.  Draco sat at one end of the couch with Hermione at the other end, her feet resting in his lap.  He covered her bare legs with a blanket.

 

“Can I ask you something personal?  You don’t have to answer, if you don’t want to,” Draco said.

 

“Sure.  If I can tell you, I will.”

 

“I’ve seen the way men look at you and I wondered if you’ve dated a lot?”

 

She laughed.  “How do men look at me?  I haven’t seen anyone checking me out.”

 

He stared at her.  This gorgeous creature had no idea.  “You’re beautiful, Hermione.  You do know that, right?”

 

“I don’t really think about how I look.  I like to feel good about my appearance, but it’s not that important to me.  But to answer your question, I have dated a bit, but I find I don’t usually have much in common with most blokes.”

 

“What do you mean?”

“Most men are initially attracted to me because I’m well-known.  Once they talk to me, they realize I want to talk about substantial ideas, not gossip or tell war stories.”

 

Draco had become possessive about Hermione’s affections.  He didn’t like the idea of her dating other men and he hated the idea of her sleeping with anyone else, although he knew she wasn’t a virgin.

 

She continued.  “I dated Ron the summer after the war ended, but we weren’t a good match.  Then I dated someone last year, but he was older and didn’t see me as an equal partner.  I’ve seen men for one or two dates, but usually decide I’m wasting my time when their eyes glaze over while I’m talking.”

 

He stroked her feet over the blanket as she talked.

 

“Are you wondering if I sleep with men as quickly as we did?” she asked.

 

“No.  Well, I know you’ve slept with other men.  I suppose the thought crossed my mind,” he said, hoping he hadn’t offended her.

 

“I’ve slept with two men before you, Draco.  Normally, I don’t jump into bed with someone.  It felt right and I wanted that closeness with you,” she confided.    

 

“Closeness and very hot sex,” he said, pinching her big toe.

 

She squirmed and giggled.  “Yes, you prat.  You know you’re good in bed.”

 

“That’s very nice to hear, Granger.  I live to serve.”  

 

“So how did you get to be so good in bed?” she asked him.

 

“I think it’s just natural talent,” he said modestly.  

 

“And lots of practice at Hogwarts?” she asked slyly.

 

“Those rumors weren’t really true,” he said.  “I dated Pansy fourth year and part of fifth year.  The other three women were one offs.  I’ve found that it’s better for me to be alone than to be with someone who likes me for my parentage or the sick novelty of this mark on my arm.”

 

“I feel the same way.  I’m comfortable enough with myself that I don’t need to be with someone unless I want to.”

 

Hermione leaned back into the cushions, enjoying Draco’s hands on her feet and legs.

 

“Are you able to visit your parents?” Hermione asked.  He hadn’t mentioned them.

 

“I can visit them twice a year.  I’m not allowed to see them at the same time, so I’ve seen my father once.  He insisted I should see my mother when there was an opportunity to visit.  I think my mother is doing her best to stay sane, but I’m not sure if she’ll make it through her imprisonment.”  

 

Hermione felt tears prick her eyes.  “I’m sorry, Draco.”

 

He sighed.  “Thank you.  But they supported pure-blood supremacy for years and these are the consequences for their actions.  The last year of the war, they began to understand the ramifications of following You-Know-Who, but it was too late by then.  I can’t fathom the world they supported, what it would have been if they had won.”  

 

Draco felt sick imagining a world where Hermione was killed or enslaved based on the lottery of her birth.  

 

“I sent my parents away during the war.  I knew I couldn’t protect them, so I _Obliviated_ myself from their memories and gave them new identities.  When I went to Australia to give them back their memories, they were horrified by what I had done.  I know they didn’t understand the extent of the war and I tried to explain to them why I had done what I did, but they no longer trust me and I think they’re scared of my magical power.  They stayed in Australia.  I’ve only seen them once since then.”

 

“You did the right thing, Hermione.  They would have been killed.”

 

“I know I did.  I wish they could understand my reasons.  But I have to live with the repercussions of my actions.”

 

Draco realized then that she was almost as alone as he was.  She had her friends, but they had their own lives.  And he wouldn’t say this to her, but he didn’t know how much in common she had with her friends.  He knew they had a shared history that bound them, but otherwise what interests did they share?  

 

“Come here,” he said, pulling her towards him.  She sat in his lap, breathing in his fresh, masculine scent.

 

“You smell good,” she said, kissing his temple.

 

“I don’t want you to see anyone else.  Would you consider seeing me exclusively?” 

 

She cupped his face and looked at him.  “Yes.”

 

He leaned forward and kissed her pouty lips.  It was early in their relationship, but Draco couldn’t imagine ever wanting to be with anyone else.   

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Playing Hooky, Part 2

Hermione went home to shower and change.  Draco agreed to give her an hour, then he would join her for lunch at her cottage.  

 

She put on a pair of jeans and a pink Henley shirt.  Her hair fell loose down her back, wet from her shower.      

 

It was a lovely fall day.  The air was crisp and the sun shone through the falling leaves.  Hermione picked onions, potatoes, and carrots from her garden.  

 

She took her basket of veggies into the kitchen and used her wand to magically peel and chop everything for potato soup.  She decided to make a loaf of French bread as well.  

 

She heard the whoosh of her floo and called out for Draco to join her in the kitchen. 

 

“What are you making?” he asked.

 

“I thought we could have potato soup and French bread.  We’ll be eating in about an hour.”

 

“Can I help you?”

 

“I think I’ve got it under control.  Would you like some sparkling water?”

 

“Please,” he said.

 

He enjoyed seeing the domestic side of Hermione.  He valued her different interests and didn’t think she would enjoy only doing one thing, such as tending house.  Draco hadn’t grown up with a mother who worked, but she didn’t take care of him as a child either.  He had elf nannies and tutors when he was older.  It wasn’t exactly clear to him how regular families balanced their responsibilities, but he thought it would be possible with someone like Hermione.

 

“What do you feel like doing today?” she asked Draco.

 

“I’d like to sketch you.”

 

“Okay.  What do I need to do?”

 

“Just get comfortable somewhere and try not to move too much.  I’ll take as little or as much time as you want to give me.”

 

“I can do that.  Do you need your art supplies?”

 

“I brought them with me,” he said, pointing to a bag.  “I had hoped you would let me draw you.”

 

Hermione showed Draco a small sea shell.  “Guess where I found this?”

 

“Where?”

 

“It came out of my hair when I washed it.  I didn’t even feel it.”  

 

Draco laughed, “Wow, Granger.  I am sorry about that.  You looked so shocked after we were soaked.”

 

“I was!  And I was freezing, too.  Does the water ever get warm enough to swim in?” she asked.

 

“It’s always a bit chilly, even in the middle of summer.  It’s refreshing on a hot day.”

 

“Hmm.  Well, I will treat your ocean water very skeptically from now on.”

 

“Seems reasonable,” he said.

 

“Do you want to eat outside?  It should be comfortable in the sun,” Hermione asked, pulling the bread out of the oven.  

 

“Let me set the table for us while you get the food,” Draco offered, taking napkins and spoons from her cabinets.  

 

“Thanks, Draco.”  She ladled generous portions of soup into deep bowls and garnished it with bacon bits, chives, salt and pepper.  She cut the bread into slices and took a small tub of butter out of her ice box.  

 

Draco came back in to help her take the food to the table.

 

They set the food on the table and sat down to eat.

 

“Delicious,” Draco said appreciatively.  

 

Hermione smiled at him and took a spoonful of her creamy soup.  “What do you like to eat at home?” 

 

“Pretty basic stuff, I’m afraid.  Pasta, chicken, fish, sautéed vegetables.  If something looks good at the market, I might try it, but otherwise I stick to what I know.”

 

“I’ve been impressed with your kitchen skills.”

 

“Thanks, love,” Draco replied.

 

_Love?_ thought Hermione.  The endearment made her blush.  She knew lots of people who used that same word all the time, but coming from Draco, it meant something more to her.  

 

Draco noticed her pink cheeks and ducked head and immediately realized his blunder.  He wouldn’t apologize, because he had strong feelings for her.  It might not be love yet, but he knew it was headed that way.

 

“You’ll have to teach me to make this bread,” Draco said, trying to change the course of her thoughts.

 

“I’d be happy to.”

 

The continued to talk as they ate their meal, enjoying their stolen time together.

 

“Have you been able to work on your DADA text?”  Draco asked.

 

“I’m almost done with the chapter on Patronuses.  Maybe you could read it and let me know what you think?” 

 

Inwardly, Draco grimaced.  He wasn’t able to produce a Patronus.  

 

Hermione noticed his reluctance.  “What is it?” 

 

“I’ve never been able to produce a Patronus,” he admitted.  “I’m not sure I could offer you any suggestions on the chapter.”

 

“I could teach you, if you wanted to try.”

 

“If anyone could teach me, I’m sure you could.  Are you ready to sit for me?”

 

“Sure.  Can I lay in the hammock?”  She thought that might be the perfect place to let her mind wander while Draco sketched.  

 

“That would work.  Let me grab my supplies and set up.”

 

Hermione cleared the table while Draco got ready.  

 

Making herself comfortable, she prepared to let her mind drift, something she rarely did.  She looked at Draco, his pad of thick paper and charcoals on a small table.

 

“Is this okay?” Hermione asked.

 

“Yes.  Just relax.”

 

Hermione felt self-conscious being looked at so intimately, but she understood that sketching was one way Draco was secure in expressing his feelings.  She heard his charcoal pencil scratching the paper.  

 

Her mind drifted and she thought about the winter holidays.  If they were together, it would be the first time in years she could wake up and enjoy Christmas morning with someone, rather than joining the Weasleys for Christmas dinner.  The idea of having someone to share her favorite holiday made Hermione consider what her life might be if she and Draco took their relationship to marriage and family.  

 

She thought about Christmas morning with two fair-haired little boys running to the tree, thrilled to open their presents.  Draco would watch them with fatherly amusement while he and Hermione sat on the floor helping the children find their gifts.  They would enjoy a leisurely morning of opening presents, eating and watching the boys enjoy their gifts.  Draco would save her gift for last while the kids were distracted.  He would give her something thoughtful, like a rare book, or something she wouldn’t normally buy herself, like jewelry.  

 

Draco said something to her.

 

“Pardon?” she said dreamily.

 

“Do you need to stretch?” Draco asked.  _What was she thinking about?  She looks so content._

 

“Oh, sure.”  Hermione gingerly got up from the hammock and walked over to Draco.  She placed her chin over his shoulder and looked at the drawing.  

 

“Draco, these drawings are…amazing.”  She shook her head in disbelief.  The way he drew her made her look beautiful, desirable, and thoughtful.

 

“Thank you.  Do you have the patience to sit for a bit longer?” 

 

“Yes, absolutely.”  Hermione made herself comfortable in the hammock once more.

 

She looked up and examined the colorful red and gold canopy of leaves.  Every so often a leaf would flutter to the ground.  When it got colder, she would have a mountain of leaves to clean up.  

 

_What would it be like to live with Draco?_   She thought he would be compatible to live with.  Would they live in one of their cottages or find a larger place?  They could add a floor to one of their homes like the Weasleys had done to the Burrow.  She inwardly laughed.  She couldn’t imagine Draco living in a house like that.  She owned several acres of land around her house, so it was possible that her house could be expanded.  

 

Hermione envisioned them spending Sunday mornings making love in the warm cocoon of her bed or creating elaborate dinners where they tried to make all the things they loved to eat.  They would take long walks along the country roads, picking bouquets of wild flowers and finding interesting landmarks.  When it was rainy and dreary, Hermione would take Draco into Muggle London for a movie or to a museum.   

 

“What are you thinking about?” Draco asked her.

 

His question broke her out of her silent reverie.  “I was just thinking about the future.”

 

“Your expressions ranged from inquisitive, to excited, to content.”

 

“You got all of that from my face?” she asked.

 

“You’re very expressive.  It’s one of the reasons you’re not a good liar.”

 

Hermione laughed.  “I’m a terrible liar.  Can I see your sketches?”

 

Draco knew she was evading his question, but he didn’t want her to feel pressured to tell him something she didn’t want to say.  

 

“Come sit here,” he said, patting his lap.  

 

Hermione sat on his lap and looked at his drawings on the table.  He folded his arms around her, resting his cheek on her shoulder.

 

“Can I have this drawing?” she asked, pointing to a picture of her profile.

 

“No, I think I’m going to keep all of them.”

 

“Vintage Malfoy.”

 

“Fine, you’ve forced my hand.  But if you wait, I can turn my study of you into a painting,” Draco said, pushing her hair out of the way to kiss her neck.

 

“Mmm.  But I do love that sketch,” Hermione said, enjoying Draco’s lips on her neck.

 

“You can have it if you really want it.  I have a few sketches I can use.”

 

“I rather like the idea of a painting.”

 

“I’ll probably want to keep the painting, too.  You can visit it at my house.”  

 

Hermione untangled herself from Draco.  “Come on, you great prat.  I need something to drink.”

 

She gave Draco a wink and sauntered off towards her kitchen.  He picked up his supplies and put them into his bag, thinking about the painting he would create for Hermione.  

 

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

Draco had an idea for the rest of their afternoon and thought Hermione would love it.

 

“Can I take you somewhere?” he asked.

 

“Sure.  Do I need to take anything?”

 

“Just your purse and your coat.”  

 

When she was ready, he put his arm around her and Apparated them to his property in France.

 

Hermione looked around, eyeing the beautiful garden they had landed in.  

 

“I thought you might like to spend the afternoon and evening at my house in France.  The two elves that live here would be thrilled to make us dinner.”  

 

“Draco, this is incredible!”

 

He grabbed her hand and led her through the garden toward the large stone house.  As they got to the front door, an elf opened it.

 

“Master Draco!  Welcome back, monsieur.  Greetings mademoiselle,” the elf said with a curtsy to Hermione.

 

“Hello, Celli.  Hermione and I are going to spend the afternoon here.  I thought we could have dinner, as well.  Something light, please.”  Celli bowed to Draco and Hermione and disappeared with a pop.

 

“After we check the house and the grounds, we can have something to tide us over,” Draco said to Hermione.

 

Hermione was in awe of the old property.  There was a sparseness to the house she liked, but the building had character.  The grey stone floors contrasted with the wooden beams of the ceiling.  Large windows let in the afternoon light.  Tapestries and art lined the walls.

 

Draco told her what he knew of the house, which wasn’t very much.  The house had always felt welcoming to him, something he had never felt at Malfoy Manor.  

 

“Why don’t you live here?” Hermione asked.

 

“It’s too big for me, but I want to live here in the future.  Do you like it?”

 

“Something about the house feels very gracious.  I don’t know, but I feel like the house wants us to be here.  Is that crazy?”  Hermione could imagine living here.

 

“It’s not crazy.  When I was a little boy, I’d cry when I had to leave.  My great-grandmother was indulgent and I felt like I could be a child for once.  She always had great toys for me that I wasn’t allowed to take back to the manor.  It was so different being here.”

 

Draco led her through the spacious downstairs area.  The formal living room was filled with old books and lovely objets d’art.  The upholstered furniture was slightly faded, but that added to the comfort of the home.

 

“The house has five bedrooms.  I usually sleep in the room I used as a boy, but I suppose I should use the master bedroom now.”

 

Draco kept his arm around her shoulder as they toured the house.  He was delighted she liked the house that meant so much to him.

 

Each bedroom was large and simply furnished.  The fireplaces were unlit, but Hermione could imagine a roaring fire on a cold winter’s night.  The master bedroom had a sitting area in front of the stone hearth.  

 

His great-grandmother’s portrait hung in the room, one of the few portraits in the house.

 

“Draco!  It’s lovely to see you, petit-fils*.”  The jovial woman in the portrait beamed at him.

 

“Grand-mère*, it’s always a pleasure to see you.  May I present Miss Hermione Granger?”  

 

Draco pulled Hermione towards the portrait.

 

“Hello, madame.  How do you do?”  

 

“Very well, very well.  It is a happy day when my Draco brings his lady love to see me.”

 

“Hermione is very special to me, Grand-mère,” Draco said, kissing her cheek.

 

“Madame, your house is beautiful.  One day you’ll have to tell me all about it,” Hermione said to the portrait.  She could understand why Draco had such affection for his great-grandmother. 

 

“I would love to, ma bichette*.  You are Muggle-born, no?”  

 

“I am,” Hermione answered wearily.

 

“Good!  The Malfoy line could use some new blood,” she said cheekily.

 

Hermione laughed with relief at the irreverent older woman’s feisty attitude.

 

“Draco, have the elves make you two café au lait and let me get to know Hermione.”

 

Draco whispered in Hermione’s ear.  “Is it okay to leave you with her?”

 

“Yes, Draco.  I’d love café au lait.”

 

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he assured her.  

 

“Draco is quite taken with you,” the portrait said with a wistful smile.

 

“I’m taken with him,” Hermione told his Grand-mère.  

 

“He was raised by such a difficult man.  His mother and father squandered their time worrying about money and power.  Family is the most important thing in the world.  Draco learned this the hard way, but he understands the value of love and family.”

 

Hermione didn’t know what to say to the portrait.  Draco was certainly different than the spoiled, bigoted child she had known.  

 

Hermione decided to change the subject.  “Draco is a talented artist.  Have you seen any of his drawings?”

 

“When he was here for Christmas, he showed me his sketchbook.  He is so smart, my Draco.  How do you know him?”

 

“We went to Hogwarts together, but we didn’t get along then.”

 

“He wasn’t taught to accept different people, Hermione.  You were not in his house?”

 

“No, madame.  I was in Gryffindor House.  Even though he teased me, I was secretly curious about him.”

 

“Yes, I can imagine.  My Draco is a handsome man, is he not?”

 

Hermione grinned at the older woman.  “He is very handsome.”

 

“So, how did you two get together?” 

 

“I was at a bookstore and he helped me reach a book.  We struck up a conversation and realized we had more in common than not.  We’re still getting to know each other,” Hermione confided.

 

Draco walked in with two steaming cups of café au lait.  

 

“Grand-mère, I’d like to take Hermione to the parlor to enjoy our drinks.  We’ll come by before we leave.”

 

“Of course, mon cœur.  I will see you in a while,” she said, her eyes twinkling merrily.

 

Hermione took her drink from Draco.

 

“Was my grandmother nice to you?” Draco asked.

 

“She’s great, Draco.  I’d love to talk to her again.”

       

 

They spent the next two hours enjoying the warmth of the home’s front parlor.  

 

“Master Draco, Mademoiselle Hermione, dinner is served.”  Celli gave them a bow before beckoning them to the dining room.

 

They appreciated the exuberant elves’ version of ratatouille.  Celli served them merlot.

 

“Can Celli get Master anything else?”  The little elf looked beside himself to have guests to serve.

 

“No, thank you.  We’ll call you if we need anything.”  Celli nodded and disappeared.

 

Hermione put her hand on Draco’s arm.  “Thank you for bringing me here.”

 

“We’ll come back and stay for a weekend,” Draco promised.

 

“Do you spend your holidays here?”

 

“I did come for Christmas last year, but over the past three years, I haven’t visited enough.  The few things I wanted from Malfoy Manor are stored in the cellar.  Even though I love this house, it felt lonely to be here by myself, so I’ve avoided it.”

 

Hermione understood why Draco would avoid the house.  It was a house for a family, not a single, young man.  

 

“What do you do for the holidays?” Draco asked.  

 

“I have dinner with the Weasleys at the Burrow.”  Draco didn’t think Hermione seemed especially enthusiastic about this.

 

“Is that enjoyable?”

 

She laughed.  “They are very sweet to always include me, but I’m with another family.  Their traditions aren’t what I would do or what I did growing up.  But I hate spending Christmas Day by myself.”

 

Draco had spent Christmas the past three years drinking from noon until he fell into a drunken stupor in the evening.  He didn’t exchange gifts with anyone, although last year he did buy himself a new broom.  His parents weren’t allowed to write or receive mail, so he didn’t even have contact with them.  It was all very pathetic, in his opinion.

 

This year, Draco hoped he could spend the holiday with Hermione.  He could bring her here and spoil her with presents.  She would love the quaint wizarding village a few miles from the chateau.  It was the epitome of France.  The elves would be thrilled to decorate the house for Christmas with fresh garlands and a tall pine tree.  Maybe Hermione would introduce Draco to some of the traditions she enjoyed.      

 

It was close to 10:00 p.m. when they finished their meal.

 

“We should go back,” Draco said, helping her up from her seat.

 

She hugged her arms around his waist.  “Do we have to?  I think I’d rather stay here.”

 

“I think our bosses will become suspicious if we continue to miss work.”

 

“True.  Do you want to stay with me tonight?”  She didn’t want to overwhelm Draco, but she didn’t want the day to end.

 

“I was planning to.  Let’s say goodbye to my grandmother then I’ll Apparate us back to your cottage.”

 

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

When they arrived back at Hermione’s cottage in the country, the air had the smell of impending snow.  They crawled into bed and made slow, sensual love. 

 

Later, Hermione watched Draco’s breathing slow and even out and his face relax into a peaceful repose.  He rarely looked so unburdened when awake.

 

She knew she loved him.  It was too soon to admit those feelings to him, but she did.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Petit-fils is French for grandson. Grand-mère is French for grandmother. Ma bichette is French for my fawn.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vintage Malfoy

“Hermione, I’ve got to get ready for work, love,” Draco whispered into her ear.  

 

“I can make us coffee before you go,” she said sleepily, her long curls fanned over her bare back.

 

“Get a few more minutes of sleep.  I’ll come by at lunch to see you.”

 

“Okay.  See you at lunch,” she murmured into the pillow.

 

It took all his willpower to leave his naked, relaxed Hermione and go back to his quiet cottage.  

 

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

When Draco went into the Dark Arts Library that afternoon, two researchers from the department were chatting with Hermione, eyeing her shapely figure.  She was, Draco knew, oblivious.  One of the men was very familiar with her.  He attempted to touch her and get her attention, but she remained professional.  It pissed Draco off that this lecher couldn’t take a hint.    

 

Finally, Draco walked up to the group.

 

“Miss Granger,” he said.

 

Her eyes lit up when she saw Draco.  “Gentlemen, I have an appointment with Mr. Malfoy.  Please excuse me.”

 

The men glared at Draco.  _Keep the fuck away from her_ , his eyes said as he scowled back at them.

 

She led Draco to her office and closed the door.  

 

“Hi.”

 

“Come here,” he said, pulling her into his arms.  He kissed her hard, his tongue demanding her submission.  She melted into him, letting his hands roam freely.  She was dizzy with the intense contact.

 

Draco used one hand to push her silky stockings and knickers down, then found her moist pussy with his long fingers.  Her back arched as he fingered her and pinched at her clit.

 

“Merlin, Draco,” she gasped.  Within seconds Hermione felt herself coming undone as Draco continued fucking her with his talented hand.

 

She clung to him as her body shivered and her pussy pulsed around his fingers.

 

“Oh my God,” she whimpered, her legs struggling to hold her up.

 

Draco kneeled and helped her right her underthings.  He sprinkled kisses over her thighs as he pulled her knickers and stockings up.  He righted her dress, smoothing it over her hips.  She leaned against the wall, trying to compose herself as Draco continued to possessively touch her. 

 

“What was that?” she finally asked.

 

He kissed her cheek and sat her down.

 

“I’m starved,” he said, taking out his sandwich and taking a big bite.

 

Hermione certainly wasn’t hungry.  She rested her head on his shoulder.  

 

“I’m going to get you back for that when you least expect it.”

 

“Bring it on, Granger,” he said, his smirk evident in his voice.

 

 ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

After a distracting afternoon, thanks to Draco’s lunchtime interruption, Hermione came home to find the Potter’s owl waiting at her kitchen window.  

 

“Hello, Rufus,” she said to the multicolored owl.  “What have you got for me?”

 

Rufus let her take the parchment from his leg, then accepted a treat and flew out the window.  

 

_Hermione,_

_Would you and your beau like to join us for dinner on Friday night, about 7:00?_

_Love,_

_Ginny_

 

Hermione wanted Draco to join her at the Potter’s house.  They had agreed to see each other exclusively and frankly, if she and Draco were together, he needed to get to know her friends.  

 

Hermione began to chop vegetables for stir-fry when she heard Draco Apparate into her yard.  She had adjusted the wards to allow him to Apparate into her house, but he thought it was rude to pop into her house.  He gave a knock at her door, then let himself in.

 

“I’m in the kitchen,” Hermione called.

 

Draco walked into the kitchen and kissed her cheek.

 

“Hi.”

 

“Hi to you.  Is stir-fry alright for dinner?” she asked.

 

“Sure.  What do you want me to do?”

 

“Would you get us wine and set the table?  Dinner will be ready in about half an hour.”

 

Hermione made rice and sautéed vegetables with shrimp.  Within a short time, they were sitting down to eat.

 

“This looks great,” Draco complimented.

 

“Thanks.  I wanted shrimp tonight.”

 

“How was the rest of your day?”

 

“It was fine.  I was fairly distracted,” she said pointedly.

 

“Were you?  Huh.  My afternoon passed quickly,” he said with a smirk.

 

“Oh, Harry and Ginny would like to have us over for dinner on Friday.  They know I’m seeing someone and they’d like to meet you.  I know there’s a lot of history there, but they’ve grown up, too.”  Hermione looked at Draco.

 

“But they don’t know you’re dating me.  I’ll have to think about it,” Draco said with a surly voice.

 

Hermione was taken aback.  “They don’t know it’s you, but my friends want me to be happy and I’ve told Ginny I’m happy with you.  I think they’d give you a chance, Draco.”

 

Draco didn’t say anything else about the invitation and instead focused on finishing his food.  

 

By the end of the meal, Hermione began to feel uncomfortable with the awkward silence.

 

“I think I’ll go back to my place tonight,” Draco said.  “I have a few things I want to take care of before work tomorrow.”

 

“Um, okay.”  She was truly at a loss for words.  

 

“Well, goodnight,” he said, grabbing his things as he walked to the front door.

 

He didn’t look back at her as he left the house.

 

As soon as Hermione heard Draco leave, tears welled in her eyes.  They had agreed to give each other space, but Hermione didn’t think that was the issue.  Draco had become distant as soon she mentioned the dinner invitation.  Hot, angry tears spilled over, tracking down her cheeks.  

 

Hermione spelled the kitchen clean and decided to channel her hurt into yoga practice.  She changed and got out her mat.  She stretched her body, going so deep into certain poses that she felt pain.  She tried to empty her mind, but her thoughts centered on the cold man who had left her house without a backward glance.  

 

_Malfoy may have changed, but he’s not a totally different person.  You knew this side of him would come out sooner or later._

 

They had communicated so well over the past few weeks that Hermione was appalled that their breakdown in communication would happen so abruptly.  His chilly demeanor shut down her ability to talk to him.  She was frustrated that their evening had no closure.  If Draco didn’t want to have dinner with the Potters, she could have accepted that, for now.

 

Hermione was sweaty and tired when she finished her practice an hour later.  She went into her bathroom and took a steaming hot shower.  While she shampooed, conditioned, shaved and scrubbed, she thought maybe she might need some time to herself, too.  

 

“Arsehole!” she screamed, stamping her feet on the shower floor.  

 

Instead of being cathartic, her anger led to more tears.  She shut off the tap and roughly toweled off her body.  

 

She didn’t even brush out her hair, but crawled into bed naked and chilled from her wet mane.  Tears continued to plague her, falling from her eyes when she’d think of how much Draco’s dismissal of her had hurt.  

 

Eventually, she fell asleep, after an hour of tossing and turning.

 

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

Draco contemplated visiting Hermione in her library the following day at work, but couldn’t quite put together the reason he practically ran out of her house.  He was embarrassed by his cowardly behavior.  He knew she deserved better, but the idea of facing Potter and his wife wasn’t feasible to him.  

 

His stomach turned at the thought of Hermione breaking things off with him.  She might not think she could do better than Draco, but he knew she could.  He saw the covetous looks Muggles and wizards alike gave him when he walked with her.  She had the type of inviting personality and warm looks that beckoned men.  Hermione was oblivious to that, but Draco knew she would eventually land someone far superior to him. 

 

He half-heartedly worked on the Silentium all day, not bothering to stop for lunch.  He left work at 5:00 and ran errands he had put off since he began to see Hermione.  

 

When he got home two hours later, he walked into his darkened cottage and was startled by the oppressive silence that greeted him.  He had been at home off and on over the past few weeks, but the idea of Hermione never being in his home again made him sad.  He had quickly grown accustomed to her companionship and the physical closeness he adored.

 

Draco couldn’t sleep, so he read late into the night.  His eyes were burning with fatigue when he finally decided to try to get some rest.

 

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::    

 

On Friday evening, Hermione took a bottle of wine and a six pack of beer to Harry and Ginny’s home.  She had wanted to cancel, but decided it would be good for her to be around her friends.  Draco hadn’t sought her out, and her pride prevented her from finding him first.  

 

Harry greeted her with a hug at the door of Grimmauld Place.

 

“Where’s your bloke?” he asked, taking the wine and beer from Hermione.

 

“We’ve only been out a few times.  It’s not very serious.”

 

Harry was confused.  Ginny was under the impression that Hermione really liked her new love interest.  “Well, we’re glad to see you, Hermione.  Ginny’s pulling the lasagna out of the oven.”

 

Harry thought Hermione looked tired and somewhat depressed. 

 

“How’s work?” Hermione asked.

 

“It’s great,” Harry replied, giving her a grin.  “I think the Cannons might actually win a few games this year.”

 

Ginny came in and hugged Hermione.  “Where’s your mystery man?”

 

Ginny noticed Hermione’s disappointed look and changed the subject before Hermione had a chance to reply.  “I made lasagna with all your favorite ingredients.  I hope you’re hungry.”

 

“It smells fabulous, Ginny.”  Hermione smiled at her friend.  She didn’t want to ruin her time with them by talking about her relationship woes.

 

Harry served Hermione a glass of wine and they sat at the table.  Ginny placed the lasagna on the table and began to serve them.

 

“How’s the baby?” Hermione asked.

 

Ginny and Harry gave her startled looks.

 

“Did something happen with Edward?” Hermione asked, worried she had missed something.

 

“Sorry, Hermione.  I don’t know what’s gotten into Harry and me.  He’s fine.  I watched him for Cassandra last week.  He starting to get a tiny tooth.  It’s adorable.  He gnaws on everything.”  

 

“I haven’t seen him in a few weeks.  I should offer to watch him for Cassandra and Ron soon.  Is Molly still at their house every day?”  Hermione asked.

 

Harry laughed.  “No.  Cassandra put a stop to that.  You think Cassandra is mild and sweet, but when it comes to Ron and the baby, she puts the Acromantulas to shame.  Do not mess with that one.” 

 

They all laughed.  Molly, who was motherly to the extreme, could be overwhelming at times.  Hermione was glad she wasn’t in Cassandra’s position.  She loved the Weasley matriarch, but didn’t like the idea of having someone telling her how to perform every task. 

 

“Tell us about you, Hermione,” Ginny said.  Ginny had noticed the look of discomfort Hermione had when they had asked about her love life.  She wondered what had happened.  Maybe it didn’t work out.  But Ginny suspected there was more to it than that.  

 

“Just the regular stuff:  working, tending my house, reading.  I’ve been working on my DADA text.  When I have my rough draft, maybe you could read it for me, Ginny?”  

 

“I could read it, too,” Harry offered.

 

“I definitely want both of you to read it,” Hermione said.

 

Ginny and Harry did their best to raise Hermione’s spirits by regaling her with the silly antics of the Weasleys and the goofiness of some of Harry’s players.  Hermione appreciated her friends’ efforts, but a couple of hours into the evening, she was ready to head home.  

 

“Can I help you clean up?” she asked Ginny.

 

“No, but let me send you home with some food,” Ginny said, walking towards the kitchen.

 

“I haven’t seen Kreacher,” Hermione observed as they headed towards the kitchen.

 

“You won’t believe this, but Kreacher has a girlfriend!”  

 

“Really?  I thought he was elderly, even for an elf.”  

 

“Oh, he is.  His girlfriend’s employer was hosting a party and she asked Kreacher to assist.  He seemed so excited to help her that we could hardly prevent him from going.  It was the first time I’ve seen him smile more than once in a day.”

 

“That’s so sweet,” said Hermione, tears beginning to wet her eyes.

 

“It is, but that’s not what this is about, is it?” Ginny said, hugging Hermione to her side.

 

“I don’t know, Ginny.  Sometimes I wonder why I don’t have what you and Harry and Ron and Cassandra have.  I love that my friends have wonderful partners and I want that, too.”

 

“You are unique and lovely, Hermione.  The right man will recognize those qualities in you.  He’s out there, I promise you.”

 

“Maybe, Ginny.  Being alone is getting old, you know?”  Hermione said, wiping a tear from her cheek.  

 

“You always have a place with us, Hermione.  Harry and I love you like a sister.”

 

“Thanks, Ginny.”

 

Ginny wrapped up food for Hermione and walked her to the floo.  Harry gave Hermione a big hug.

 

“Let me know if you need me to make anyone disappear,” he whispered in her ear.

 

“I will,” she chuckled.

 

Ginny hugged her, then Hermione stepped into the green flames.

 

Logically, she knew Ginny was right.  In all likelihood, she would find someone she was compatible with and share her life with him.  But she thought she had found that someone in Draco.

 

Her charming little cottage felt empty as she readied herself for bed.

 

 

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Making Amends

Draco had spent the weekend brooding around his cottage.  He couldn’t sleep, he wasn’t hungry, hell, he couldn’t even read.  He spent hours flying over the dark waters of the ocean, thinking about Hermione.  She must think the worst of him now.  He asked her for romantic exclusivity and then practically ran away from her when she asked him to be a bigger part of her life.  

 

He dragged himself into work on Monday morning, determined to see Hermione.  He needed the closure of knowing if their relationship was over.  

 

During his lunch hour, he headed to her library.  A Ministry elf greeted him as he entered the dimly lit space.

 

“Greetings, sir.  How can Bunsley assist you?”

 

“I’m looking for Miss Granger,” he told the small elf.

 

“She isn’t here today, sir.  Would you like to leave her a note?”

 

“Do you know why she’s out?” Draco asked.

 

“Bunsley doesn’t know, sir.”

 

“Well, thank you.” 

 

Draco rarely went into his boss’ office, but he decided to leave work and go to Hermione’s house.  Old Mr. Raleigh’s secretary looked startled to see him.  

 

“Can I help you, Mr. Malfoy?”

 

“I’m not feeling well, so I’m going to head home,” Draco told her.

 

“I’ll note it in your file,” she said.  

 

“That’s fine.”

 

Draco collected his things and headed towards Hermione’s cottage.

 

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

Hermione had owled her boss, letting him know she wouldn’t be in.  She had spent the weekend scrubbing her house and doing yard work.  She couldn’t concentrate on cerebral work, so she immersed herself in physical activity.  

 

She was disgusted with herself for skipping work, but she hated being in the same building with Draco and not seeing him.  After so many days, she had come to the conclusion that their brief affair was probably over.  She kept reminding herself that this was hardly the worst thing to happen to her, but at the moment it felt catastrophic.  Hermione had truly believed they might have a future together.

 

She was making herself a cup of hot cocoa when she heard a knock at her door.  She thought it might be Ginny.  She knew Ginny worried and would sometimes randomly pop over to check on her.

 

“Come in, Gin,” she called out.  She began to prepare a second cup of cocoa.

 

The heavy shoes on her wood floor didn’t sound like Ginny.  She looked up to see Draco in her kitchen doorway.

 

“You weren’t at work today,” he said.  He thought she looked tired.  She had dark circles under her eyes and her hair was pulled into a messy ponytail.  

 

She finished stirring his drink before handing it to him.  He noticed she backed away, putting the kitchen island between them.  

 

“I just didn’t feel like going in,” she said, taking a sip of her cocoa.  

 

“Can we talk?” Draco asked.  Hermione nodded.

 

Her stomach had dropped to the floor when she saw him in her doorway.  She missed him, but was hurt by his behavior.  

 

“Do you think we can sit?” he said.

 

Hermione walked to the kitchen table and sat down across from Draco.  If she looked at him too long, she had the urge to cry.  She steeled herself for the inevitable.

 

“I’m sorry I ran out of your house last week and I’m even sorrier I’ve been avoiding you.  The idea of seeing Potter and his wife was almost unbearable to me.  I’m sorry I took that out on you.”

 

She hadn’t expected Draco to apologize to her, but she wanted to understand what Draco was thinking when he had left her house the previous week.

 

“I know you don’t like Harry, but I don’t understand what happened when I told you they wanted to meet you.”

 

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  “Potter has seen me at my worst.  First in the fucking girls’ loo and then in the Astronomy Tower.  As soon as he sees us together, he’ll try to persuade you to leave me.  I couldn’t even fault him for that.”

 

He took a drink of his cocoa, trying to calm down.  He called on his Slytherin side to remain calm, cool and collected, but he wanted to get on his knees and beg Hermione for her forgiveness.

 

“And during seventh year, when you were on the run, Ginny saw me tearing apart a classroom after I had been called back to Malfoy Manor by You-Know-Who.   After how shitty I had been to her family, she was so nice to me.  She helped me repair the classroom after my tantrum.”

 

“Draco, we all knew you were being coerced into serving Voldemort.  We understood you were trying to protect your parents.  But you tried to protect us at Malfoy Manor by not identifying us.  That bravery in the face of your parents, Bellatrix and Voldemort was invaluable.”

 

“I should have done more, Hermione.  I knew what the Dark Lord was doing was wrong.”

 

“How can you stand to be with me?” she asked.

 

“What?” 

 

“You’ve seen _me_ at my worst, when your crazy aunt tortured me.  I was bloody and screaming.  I pissed myself, Draco!  How can what Harry and Ginny saw be worse that that?”

 

It was then that the stress of their estrangement and the remembrance of her torture hit Hermione and she began to sob.

 

Draco felt helpless.  How could he even equate what her friends had seen of him compared to what he had witnessed when she was tortured?  That she didn’t hold that against him was unbelievable.  He had to make amends with her.

 

“Hermione, listen to me.”  Draco pulled her up from her chair and held her, his arms holding her firmly in place.  He stroked her back.  “I’m sorry, Hermione.  I’m so sorry, beautiful girl.”

 

After a few moments, Hermione’s sobs dissipated.  She let Draco hold her and rub her back in soothing circles.  He led her to the sofa.

 

“When I witnessed your torture, I begged Merlin to let you live.  But you were so brave, Hermione.  In the whole war, I never saw anyone who resisted death when tortured by Bella.  Your torture didn’t make me think less of you.  If anything, I admired you even more.”  Draco looked into her eyes, trying to convey his sincerity.

 

“Then you understand why my friends won’t think less of you, Draco, why I thought we might have a chance at something.”

 

“Do I still have a chance with you?” he asked.

 

“Can we do this or is there too much baggage between us?”  Hermione hadn’t felt this emotionally wrung out since her parents sent her away after she restored their memories.  She loved Draco, but she didn’t want a relationship with an emotionally unavailable man.

 

“I want this, more than you could fathom.  But I sometimes wonder if I’m cursed to live out my days alone.  I don’t deserve you, Hermione.”

 

“Do you still envision yourself with a pure-blood?”  Hermione figured she might as well have her questions answered now.  She needed to know if she should move on or attempt a relationship with Draco.  

 

“No, I envision myself with you.  I…I can’t imagine being with anyone else.”

 

“I’m scared, Draco.  I don’t want you to break my heart.”

 

He leaned in and kissed her cheek, then her forehead, her temple, her eyelids.  He loved Hermione.  She was his path out of the solitary, unloved life he had been living.  What he didn’t understand was that he was her path as well.

 

“I won’t intentionally hurt you.  I’m rubbish at communication, but I’m working on it.”

 

“I want to be with you, Draco.  I just need you to tell me what you’re thinking.  Last week was awful.”

 

He hugged her, breathing in her lemon-vanilla scent.  “Last week was awful for me, too.  I’m sorry.”

 

“We don’t have to let anyone know about our relationship if it feels premature to you,” Hermione suggested.  She thought he might have issues with the wizarding world knowing about them.

 

He tugged her hair back, forcing her to look at him.  “I want everyone to know we’re together.  But it will be harder for you than it will be for me.  I don’t want you to feel like you always have to defend this.”  He smoothed his hand over her haphazard ponytail.

 

“If we’re okay that’s all I need, Draco.  My friends will be open to you, after the initial shock wears off.  I love my friends, but they don’t make my decisions for me.  If I want to be with you, I will despite their feelings.”

 

Draco was skeptical, but he trusted her.  He had to have faith that she could withstand the way he would tarnish her reputation.  

 

He looked at her, so vulnerable and beautiful.  He needed to touch her, make her know how he felt.  He kissed her, his lips tentative at first.  He had been starved for her touch.  She sighed into his mouth, her hands pulling him close.  

 

“I need you, Draco.”

 

She stood up and pulled him towards her bedroom. 

 

They hastily undressed themselves, then came together in a desperate kiss.  The feel of Hermione’s skin against his was heavenly.  He needed to taste her.  

 

He pushed her onto the bed and spread her legs.  Hermione watched him examine her naked body with lust and possession.  She wanted to touch him, but something in Draco’s face told her he needed to be in control.

 

He leaned over her moist triangle of curls and used his fingers to expose her pussy to his mouth.  The way he breathed in her scent looked almost animalistic to her.

He kept his eyes on her face as he licked up her center.

 

She gasped, her breathing shallow and fast.  

 

His tongue traced her plump, wet lips and traveled to her clitoris.  Hands joined his tongue in pleasuring her.  His fingers massaged her tight, wet channel while his mouth lapped at her pink, sensitive pearl of nerves.  Hermione writhed, her hips pushing towards his mouth and hands. 

 

“Gods, Draco,” she said, her body tensing.

 

When he knew she was close to coming, he pushed a finger into tight ass.

 

“Yes, yes, fuck yes, Malfoy!” she shrieked and came with a gush of wetness.  Her sex throbbed around his fingers.  Draco continued to gently push into her body and lap up her wetness until she stopped bucking her hips.

 

“That was…oh, Merlin,” she panted.

 

He slid his hands up her body to grasp her wrists and held them above her head.  Hermione’s lips sought his, her tongue tangling with his in a greedy dance of pleasure.  She felt the wide head of his swollen shaft against her sensitive folds for a brief moment before he slammed into her.

 

“Draco!” she screamed.  

 

She met his hard thrusts with her wanton hips, abandoning all power to him.  He bit at her neck, her throat.  He sucked on her taut, deep pink nipples.  Hermione gazed at his feral expression, enthralled by his intensity.  His skin was covered with a sheen of sweat.  His musky scent filled her nose with drugging pheromones.  

 

He adjusted his thrusts to hit her spongy g-spot.  She felt her sheath flutter.

 

“Come with me,” she wailed.

 

“Oh, Merlin, fuck yes!” Draco yelled, hot semen spurting into her womb.

 

He collapsed on her generous body, breathing into her ear.  

 

“You are fucking amazing,” Draco rasped.

 

“I missed you so bloody much.  Don’t ever leave me again unless you plan on going for good.”   

 

He pushed himself up to look into her warm, brown eyes.  “I won’t.  I can’t leave you.”

 

“Why?”

 

_Because I love you.  Because my life is shit without you.  Because I never thought I’d have a chance with you and I’ll do whatever I have to do to keep you.  Because you make me believe that I might have a shot at happiness._

 

“Because we’re really good together, Granger.”

 

“We are,” she said, running her fingers through his messy hair.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love Interrupted

“I haven’t heard from Hermione in a few weeks,” Ginny said to Harry.

 

“She was so gloomy last time we saw her,” he said, drying the Sunday brunch dishes Ginny handed to him.

 

“Let’s surprise her and take her out for a movie or Christmas shopping.”

 

Harry nodded.  “Great idea, Gin.  She’d like that.”

 

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

“Mmm, Draco, right there,” Hermione moaned, enjoying the languid rhythm of Draco’s body on top of hers.

 

“Do you like this?” he asked, thrusting into her at an angle that hit her clitoris and her g-spot.

 

“Oh, yeah, that’s perfect.”

 

So immersed were they in their love making that the sound of the floo did not register.

 

Harry and Ginny walked in and heard moaning.  Immediately, Ginny realized that they had walked in on Hermione and her mystery boyfriend, but Harry did not have the same realization.  All he heard was his best friend moaning and had visions of a bloodied and battered Hermione calling for help.  He was a good, but sometimes clueless, friend.

 

With his wand brandished, he burst into her room and was met with the sight of Draco Malfoy’s naked arse.  

 

“What the fuck?” Harry screamed at the pair.

 

Draco covered Hermione with his body.  “Get out!” he yelled.

 

“Harry Potter, get the bloody hell out of my room!  We’ll be out in a minute,” Hermione hollered, attempting to cover herself and Draco with a sheet.

 

Ginny dragged her husband out of the bedroom and shut the door.  She sat him on Hermione’s couch.

 

“Merlin’s balls, Harry!  How could you have burst into her room like that?”  Ginny scolded.

 

Harry seemed to be in shock.  “I don’t know.  I just…I just thought something had happened to Hermione.  I guess I don’t think of her that way.”

 

Ginny lowered her voice.  “Was that Malfoy?”  

 

Harry took off his glasses and cleaned them.  “Yeah, I think it was.”

 

“They seem to like each other.”

 

Harry looked at his wife and guffawed.  “You could say that.”

 

Ginny giggled and hid her face in Harry’s neck.  “Should we leave?  This is embarrassing.”  

 

“You’re embarrassed?  I almost attacked a shagging couple.”  

 

Hermione and Draco, disheveled but dressed, walked into the living room.

 

“Harry, Ginny.  Can I get you something to drink?”  Hermione asked her red-faced friends.

 

“I’d take a firewhisky,” Harry muttered.

 

“I’ll have one with you, Potter,” Draco said, walking to the kitchen.  

 

“Hermione, we’re so sorry.  Harry thought you were hurt and ran in,” Ginny said.

 

Hermione sat down on an adjacent chair.  “We had hoped to have you over for dinner, but I guess we can talk now.  Draco and I have been together for about two months.”

 

Draco came back in with two glasses of firewhisky and handed one to Harry.

 

“Hi Malfoy,” Ginny said.  “So, you’re Hermione’s mystery man?”

 

“I am,” he said, perching himself on the arm of Hermione’s chair.  Hermione rested her hand on his knee.  

 

“How did this,” Harry said, gesturing to Draco and Hermione, “happen?”

 

Draco wanted to roll his eyes, but refrained and let Hermione answer.

 

“We started talking at Flourish & Blotts and realized we had a lot in common.”

 

“Is it serious?” Harry asked.

 

“Harry, that’s not our business,” his wife protested.

 

But Draco interrupted.  “It is serious, Potter.”  

 

Hermione looked up at him and beamed.  Draco pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.

 

“If you’re happy with Malfoy, then we’re thrilled for you, Hermione,” Ginny said.  She wanted nothing more than for their friend to find love.  

 

“Will you two come over for dinner soon?” Hermione asked.  

 

Ginny took the hint and stood up, pulling Harry up by the arm.

 

“We’d love to.  Let us know when and what we can bring,” Ginny said, grabbing a handful of floo powder.

 

“We’ll talk soon,” Harry said to Draco.

 

“Alright, Potter.”  

 

The Potters disappeared into the flames.  Draco stood up and drank the rest of his firewhisky.  

 

“They took that well,” he said, smirking at Hermione.

 

“I would have preferred to tell them over dinner, but I agree, they took that surprisingly well.” 

 

Hermione stood up and hugged Draco around the waist.  

 

“I love you,” she said into his chest.

 

He stilled before tilting her chin up.  “You do?”

 

She looked at his quizzical expression.  “I do.  I love you.  You don’t have to say anything.”

 

Her face was so open and trusting.  _Now or never, Draco_ , he thought to himself.

 

“I love you, too.  You’re it for me, Hermione.”

 

He led her to the sofa and they sat.  A Tiffany blue box was produced from his pocket. 

 

_Merlin, Merlin, I’m not sure I’m ready for this_ , she thought.

 

“It’s not a ring.”  

 

Her frozen expression relaxed and she laughed.  

 

He opened the box to show her a three-carat diamond pendant on a platinum chain.  

 

Absolutely awestruck, she gently lifted it from the box.

 

“I wanted to give this to you for Christmas, but I don’t want to wait.”

 

“Draco, it’s beautiful,” she whispered.  

 

He wanted something big and ostentatious that said to everyone that Hermione was his.  He _was_ still a Malfoy, after all.  

 

“I want you to wear it every day.  Will you do that?”

 

She threw her arms around his neck.  “Of course I will.  My other necklaces are dead to me.”

 

He grinned into her hair.  

 

“Will you help me put it on?” 

 

She moved back and lifted her hair.  He clasped it behind her neck and admired the sparkling jewel.  It was gorgeous on her.

 

“Perfect,” he said, tracing the chain with his index finger.

 

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

Harry and Ginny stepped out of the floo, looked at each other and burst into laughter.

 

Ginny was giggling so hard she had to hold onto Harry to stay upright.

 

“That was…” Harry roared, tears of mirth gathering in his green eyes.

 

“Gods, Harry!  Malfoy and Hermione.  And we saw them shagging!”  Ginny yelped, immersed in uncontrollable sniggers.  

 

Harry got them to a wingback chair and pulled Ginny into his lap.  They held each other until their laughter subsided. 

 

“I don’t think I’ll be able to look at those two ever again,” Harry said.

 

Ginny sobered.  “We’ve seen a lot worse with both of them.”

 

“True,” he murmured.

 

“She loves him, Harry.  I can tell he feels the same way about her.”

 

“You think so?”

 

“Yeah, I do.  She’s told me they have a lot in common.  And we know Hermione and love her, but she’s unusual.  It would take a special man to appreciate her.”

 

“Do you think Malfoy appreciates what she has to offer?  She’s had a hard time the last few years.”  

 

Ginny thought of what she knew of Malfoy.  “He’s had a hard time, too, Harry.  His fortune is gone and his parents are in Azkaban.  I saw him walking in Diagon Alley about a year ago and no one would even look at him.”

 

“I’ll give him a chance, for Hermione’s sake,” Harry conceded.  He reverently stroked Ginny’s small tummy.

 

“I’m feeling better today,” she said, resting her face against his messy, black mop of hair.

 

“Good.  I got some ideas watching Malfoy and Hermione.”  He gently pinched her nipple through her shirt.

 

Ginny smirked at her adaptable spouse.  “Mmm.  Do tell me more, Mr. Potter.” 

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First Christmas

For the first time in three years, Draco was looking forward to his time off from the Ministry for the winter holidays.  He was taking Hermione to his French home for the week.  Unbeknownst to Hermione, he had spent hours making the house more comfortable for her.  

 

He got permission from his great-grandmother to move her portrait to the entrance hall.  She laughed gaily when Draco had told her he planned on using the master bedroom from now on.  

 

“You and your Hermione will need the privacy,” she said, winking at him.

 

Draco blushed.  “Thank you, Grand-mère.”

 

“She is lucky to have you, Draco.”

 

“I hope so,” he muttered.

 

“Do not worry so, mon coeur.  She loves you.  You will be good for each other.”  His Grand-mère gave him a loving smile.

 

Draco knew Hermione enough to leave decorating the tree to her, but he did have the elves find a tall, lush pine for the front parlor.  The elves left boxes of tree decorations out for him and Hermione.  He allowed his eager assistants to hang garland and mistletoe throughout the house.  The grand old home would be more alive than it had been in years.

 

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

Hermione knocked on the door to Grimmauld Place.  Boxes of brightly colored gifts filled her arms.  

 

“Hermione!  Let me help you,” Ginny said, taking several of the packages.

 

“Hi Gin.  I have about an hour before Draco comes by the cottage,” Hermione said apologetically.

 

Ginny waved her off.  “Let me pour us some tea and you can give me all the dirty details,” she said, winking at her friend.

 

“How are you feeling?” Hermione asked.  Ginny’s pregnancy was finally showing.

 

“Much better.  But we have months to talk about that.  Tell me about you and Malfoy.  I want details, Hermione, details!”  

 

Hermione laughed.  “Are you talking about bedroom details?  Because I think we showed you plenty.”

 

Ginny groaned.  “Harry and I were so embarrassed about that.  Do you think Malfoy will ever forgive us?”

 

“I think he preferred you finding out that way to us having you over for dinner.  He’s worried that my friends will try to persuade me to leave him.”

 

“You love him, don’t you?”  It was obvious, at least to Ginny.

 

“I love him.  Like marry-him-have-his-little-blond-babies-love.  He gave me this,” Hermione said, showing Ginny her diamond necklace.  

 

Ginny admired the sparkly, large diamond.  “He wants people to know you’re together.”

 

Hermione nodded her head.  “We’re still getting to know each other, but the more I know about him, the more secure I feel with him.”

 

“What are you two doing for Christmas?”

 

“We’re going to spend the week at his house in France.  I’m ridiculously excited.”

 

“I’m ridiculously excited for you!  It sounds so romantic.”

 

“Thanks for handing out my presents to everyone,” Hermione said, getting up.  “After the holiday, we really will have you over for dinner.”

 

“Have a wonderful time in France.  We’ll be thinking about you.”

 

Hermione hugged her friend.  “Can I touch your bump?”

 

“Go ahead.  Harry swears the baby’s a boy, so he’s taken to calling him James.”

 

Hermione gently rubbed Ginny’s belly.  “Hi baby James.  It’s Auntie Hermione.  I can’t wait to meet you.”

 

“Let me grab your gifts!  Hold on.”

 

Ginny hurried to grab two gifts from under the tree.  “There’s one for you and one for Malfoy.”

 

Hermione was touched.  “That’s so thoughtful.  Thank you, Gin.”  

 

“You can thank me by coming back with juicy stories from your trip,” her feisty friend suggested.

 

Hermione chuckled, hugged Ginny and left, wanting to be ready for Draco when he came to collect her.  

 

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

Draco and Hermione sat at the base of the tall Christmas tree, examining their work.

 

“It looks wonderful, love,” Draco said.

 

The tree glittered with tiny white magical lights and a multitude of decorations collected from his Grand-mère’s attic.  

 

“I have one more to add.  I’ll be right back,” Hermione said, slipping out of the room.  

 

Draco took a drink of his hot mulled cider.  For the first time in their three month courtship, they would be together for several days straight.  He was excited to have Hermione all to himself.

 

She came back into the room and handed him a small white box. 

 

“Will you put it up?” she asked.

 

He opened the box to find a silver star ornament with the inscription:

 

_Draco & Hermione_

_Christmas_

_*2001*_

 

 

“I hope it’s not too sentimental.”

 

Seeing their names permanently etched on the shiny ornament was heartwarming and encouraging to Draco.  

 

_She truly does see this as a lasting relationship_ , he thought.  Elation made him smile as he found the perfect spot on the tree and hung the star.  The love and gratitude Draco felt for Hermione was hard for him to articulate.  

 

“You’ll have to buy a new one every year.”  He leaned down and tenderly kissed her full, pink lips.  

 

“I’ll do that,” Hermione agreed, nestling into Draco’s side.  He held her close with his arm around her shoulders.

 

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

Hermione found out that when Draco was a child, his elf nanny would let him help her make gingerbread cookies on Christmas Eve.  Nanny Hilde let him decorate the sweet brown ginger men with sprinkles and frosting.  She felt affection for the elf that gave Draco pleasant memories of Christmas Eve.

 

They now sat in the rustic kitchen on Christmas Eve rolling out gingerbread dough for cookies.  Celli had insisted that she and Aman, Draco’s other house-elf, at least make the dough for the cookies.  Hermione conceded.  She knew the elves were excited to have their house once again inhabited.     

 

“Master, an owl delivered two letters for you.  Celli has checked them and they are safe,” the delicate little elf said to Draco.

 

Draco got very little post, so he was confused as to who might be sending him letters on a holiday.  He noticed Hermione nervously eyeing the letters.  Tearing open the first envelope, Draco was astonished to find a letter from his mother.

 

“Did you do this?” he said, pointing to the letters.  Hermione bit her bottom lip and nodded.

 

Draco sat down and read the letter from his mother.  Narcissa wrote about her first Christmas as a mother, telling Draco how excited she had been to have a child to spoil and love.  She told Draco she was allowed to write to him once a week and he could send her letters as well.  His mother had used every inch of the one sheet of paper allotted to relate memories of Christmases past and her wishes for his future holidays.

 

When he was finished reading, he found Hermione watching him.  She looked unsure of herself.

 

“How were you able to do this?” he asked.

 

“I asked Harry to help me and we talked to the Head Auror.  They were able to amend your parents’ communication to include letters to you.  Are you upset?”

 

He beckoned her closer and put his hands on her waist.

 

“Without question, this is the nicest, most humbling thing anyone has ever done for me.  I’m shocked that you were able to get my parents communication privileges.”

 

Hermione smoothed back his hair.  “I just want you to be happy.”

 

“Would you mind if I read the letters while you bake?  I need a moment.”

 

She nodded and gave Draco some privacy.  After she put the cookies into the oven, he wrapped his arms around her from behind.

 

Hermione had begun to understand that emotion could overwhelm Draco, so she let him take the lead. 

 

“Thank you, love,” he murmured, his arms tightening around her.

 

She hugged his arms against her and relaxed into his hold.  

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::   

  

Christmas morning dawned with a blanket of fluffy white snow covering the landscape.  Hermione woke before Draco and sat in front of the fire, enjoying the beauty of the flurries dancing on the wind.  Aman quietly brought her a cup of hot cocoa.

 

Growing up, Hermione had thought she would spend holidays with her parents, observing the traditions she grew up with.  But since her estrangement from her mum and dad three years ago, she had spent the holidays loosely observing the Weasley’s traditions and mostly feeling sorry for herself.  Since neither she nor Draco had family around, they were free to create their own traditions.  

 

She snuggled into the down filled cushion of the chair and picked up the Cornell mystery Draco had lent her.  Hermione was quickly immersed in the exciting tale.  She sighed to herself.  This was her “happy place”, as the Muggle saying went.

 

An hour later, she looked up to find Draco watching her read.

 

“Happy Christmas,” she said brightly, joining Draco on the bed.  

 

He sat up and hugged her to his naked torso.  “Happy Christmas, love.  Give me a few minutes and we can go downstairs.”

 

 

 

They descended the stairs and made their way to the tree.  Hermione gasped.  The entire area under the tree was filled with presents.  She had brought several presents for Draco, but he had outdone himself.  

 

They sat on the sofa, next to each other.

 

“Do you have a way you want to do this?” he asked.

 

“Not really.  You decide.” 

 

Draco handed Hermione a small, Tiffany blue box tied with a silver cord.  After the necklace, she didn’t think he’d give her an engagement ring so nonchalantly.  Inside the box, she found one-carat diamond studs that matched her necklace.

 

“Merlin, Draco, these are beautiful!”  She took out her puny diamond earrings and put on the Tiffany diamonds.  

 

“What do you think?” she asked him.

 

“I think you look stunning,” he said, admiring the contrast of her disheveled morning hair and the glinting diamonds.

 

She kissed his cheek.  “Your turn.” 

 

He opened her gift to find two Muggle cellular phones.  He had seen Muggles using them in London, but didn’t quite understand how they worked.

 

“Um, thank you,” he said unsurely.  Hermione chuckled at his confused expression.

 

“Muggles use cellular phones to talk to each other.  It’s kind of like floo calling, but you don’t need to be anywhere near a floo connection.  I’m going to go upstairs and I’ll call you.  You can answer by hitting the green button.”  Hermione ran upstairs and went into the master bath.

 

Draco heard the little black phone ring and pressed the green button. 

 

“Hermione?”

 

“What do you think?”

 

“It’s brilliant.  Can we do this from anywhere?”

 

“Yes.  I charmed the cellulars to work with magic instead of the system Muggles use, so the phones won’t get fried if we use them around magic.”  Hermione had spent many hours trying to figure out how to charm the phones, but eventually she’d been able to concoct a spell that allowed her and Draco to communicate.  

 

Hermione walked downstairs as she explained how to use the device.

 

When she saw Draco’s face, she could see his amazement.

 

“I thought this would be a good way we could keep in touch with each other,” she said after showing Draco how to hang up the cell.

“You really are incredible,” he said, pulling her onto his lap.  She leaned in to kiss him, pleased that he liked his gift.

 

“Are you ready for your next gift?” Draco asked.

 

“You spoil me, Draco,” Hermione admonished.  He grinned at her and patted her bum.  

 

She got off his lap and Draco pulled a large, flat package from behind the tree.  It was wrapped in sleek gold paper with a festive red bow.  

 

_Art?  I wonder what it could be?_  

   

She gently opened the wrapping to find a painting _of her._   It was done in a modern Impressionistic style that made the viewer feel like she was looking at a memory or a dream.  The way Draco had painted Hermione was romantic and sensual.  Tears fell down Hermione’s face.

 

Draco took the painting from her and leaned it against the wall.  

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“My parents loved me because I was their daughter.  My friends grew to love me because we supported each other.  But you love…me.  I’ve never had that before.  I didn’t know if it would ever happen.”

 

“I don’t deserve you, Hermione, but I do love you.”  He wiped her wet face with his fingers.

 

They faced each other on the couch and clasped hands.

 

“Your painting takes my breath away.  You’re so talented.”

 

“I’m glad you like it.”  The painting had been a labor of love for Draco. 

 

“It’s the best gift I’ve ever received, Draco.”

 

“Better than diamonds?  Honestly, Granger, what kind of witch are you?”

 

She pinched his side.  “Your favorite kind of witch.”

 

“Oi!  You are my very favorite kind of witch.  The kind of witch that brings me presents.”  

 

She chuckled at his silly banter.  They took a break from opening gifts to enjoy the decadent baked goods the elves had prepared for them.  

 

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

That night, as they got ready for bed, Draco pulled a gift from the closet.

 

“I have one more gift for you,” Draco said to Hermione.  Hermione’s eyes widened.  Draco had been incredibly generous with her. 

 

He handed her a box tied with an emerald green satin bow.  “I had selfish motivations for giving you this last gift.”

 

Hermione opened the lid to find a silky bra and knickers set.  She looked up into Draco’s lusty eyes.  “I’ll be right back,” she said, taking the lingerie into the bathroom.

 

He sat on the edge of the bed, eager to see his gift displayed on Hermione’s curvaceous body.  He had seen the set in a Muggle magazine at her house and found the store in London after a very long and expensive cab ride.  He actually had bought several sets for Hermione and planned on having her dress up for him on a regular basis.  

 

In the bathroom, Hermione admired the pink and black lace confection. The bra highlighted her full breast with cups that barely covered her puckered nipples.  The knickers were low cut with bows that tied on the side.  She looked like a 1940s pin-up girl.  She Conjured a pair of her black kitten heels to give Draco the full effect of the look.

 

Draco looked up as she came out of the bathroom.  

 

“What do you think, Mr. Malfoy?”  Hermione slowly walked towards him, her hips swaying.  She licked her lips in anticipation of what she wanted to do to him.

 

“You’re bloody sexy,” he murmured, appreciating her almost naked body covered in the silky underthings.      

 

She stopped in front of him and let Draco study her aroused form.  He leaned back on the bed, his hands braced on the mattress.  Hermione knelt between his legs.  She unbuckled, unbuttoned and unzipped then nudged his hips to pull his pants and boxers down.  His thick erection bounced free of its bindings.

 

“I want to make you come in my mouth,” she said softly, fingering the smooth skin of his penis.  

 

His head fell back, enjoying the sensation of her hand on him, her warm breath near his most sensitive parts.  

 

Draco fantasized about her sucking him to completion, but he thought most women didn’t like it.  He was thrilled Hermione had taken the lead in pleasuring him, since he wouldn’t ask her to swallow.  

 

She licked the dripping tip, using her hands to cup his sac and hold his cock in her fist.  She sucked him into her mouth, using gentle pressure at first, but becoming firmer as she tried to take more of his length into her mouth.

 

“Merlin, Granger,” he groaned, watching her full lips around his sex.  

 

_That thing she does to the underside of the head is amazing!_

 

When she engulfed his cock and moaned, he felt the telltale signs of an imminent orgasm.  He let himself go and thrust into her hot mouth.  

 

“Yes, Granger, fuck yes!”

 

Hermione looked up at Draco’s rapturous face and continued to suckle until he stopped thrusting.  She gently took him out of her mouth, placing her hands on his thighs.

 

“I think that was my favorite Christmas gift,” he said, pulling her up.

 

She laughed.  “I’ll remember next time I need to get you a gift.”

 

“Seriously, though, you never cease to amaze me, Hermione.”

 

She hugged him, knowing their sex life was as much about pleasure as it was about love and intimacy.

 

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

The holiday ended the afternoon before they had to return to work.  The elves were sad to see Draco and Hermione go, but they were assured the couple would make an effort to visit more frequently.

 

When they landed in Hermione’s snowy front yard, Draco noticed her wistful expression.

 

“Is something wrong, love?” he asked.

 

She tried to neutralize her face.  “No, not at all.  This past week was wonderful.”

 

He helped her into the house, placing her gifts on the coffee table.  She sat down on the couch, looking pensive.  Draco joined her, his arm around her shoulders drawing her close.

 

She rested her head on his shoulder.  “I know we have work and our own homes, but I loved being with you this past week.  I’m not ready to go back to regular life.”

 

Draco felt the same way.  They’d only been together for a few months, but he hadn’t survived living amongst violent criminals by ignoring his insticts.  His instincts told him he could trust Hermione and his feelings for her.  All week he had contemplated broaching the subject of moving in together and now he had the perfect opportunity to discuss it with her.

 

“Let’s move in together.  We could live in the French house rather comfortably.  I know you fancy the property.”

 

Hermione stared at him for a second before a huge grin took over her face.  “Really?  You don’t think it’s too soon?”

 

Her jubilant expression was answer enough for Draco.  “I don’t think it’s too soon, but I’d be willing to wait.”

 

_I want this so much.  Nothing is holding me back.  I have to do this.  I have to jump._

 

“Are you sure, Draco?”

 

“Granger, I want to be with you all the time.  For the first time in years, I felt like I was at home having you with me in that house.  I want to live with you.”

 

“Okay,” she said with a huge smile.  “Let’s move in together.”

 

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three months later…

_So.  Much.  Red.  Hair._

 

Draco had reluctantly become an honorary member of the Weasley clan.  When they returned from their Christmas vacation, Hermione had invited everyone to her house for a party and introduced Draco to the family.  

 

Ginny and Harry spoke to Ron beforehand, but Ron was surprisingly supportive of Hermione and Draco.  He had no lingering romantic feelings for Hermione and had watched her suffer through dates with men not worthy of her beauty and intelligence.  Ron was currently helping Harry shrink boxes of Hermione’s books to transport to Chateau d’Amour as they jokingly called the French house.

 

Somehow Draco had ended up with a sleeping baby Edward in his arms.  He should have been helping move Hermione’s things to Chateau d’Amour (damn that stupid catchy name!), but it was nice to get a break from moving Hermione’s boxes upon boxes of books.  They had been able to move most of their belongings on their own, but Hermione and Draco were ready to have their houses cleared out.  They’d sold their cottages and the new owners were poised to take over in a few days time.  

 

Ginny poked Hermione.  “Look at Malfoy.  He’s a natural with babies.”

 

He really was.  Bill and Fleur’s children were fascinated by Draco, conversing with him in French and awed by his ability to create toys out of common household objects.  Baby Edward immediately took to Draco, studying his face with his eyes and his drool-y hands.  Molly Weasley, who was of the belief that children knew when someone was good, was charmed by Draco’s ability with the kids.  

 

“He is,” Hermione said.  “I can’t believe you’re here helping, Gin.”

 

“I need a distraction.  I’m ready for this baby to be born.”

 

“Maybe Draco can babysit for you,” Hermione joked.

 

“You two are going to be first on my list after Mum and Dad.”

 

Draco walked into Hermione’s bedroom with Edward still happily snuggled into his chest.  

 

“I have to go see my mum,” he whispered into Hermione’s ear.  She gently took the sleeping baby and kissed Draco.

 

Draco stepped out of the cottage and headed towards Azkaban Prison.

 

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

Draco was transported to Azkaban by an Auror for his twice yearly visit to see his mother.  It was cold and grey on the island that housed the prison.  He pulled his thick robe around himself, trying to keep the dampness at bay.

 

He was led to a small room for visiting.  At least they were alone.  He could talk to her without fear of someone listening to their conversation.

 

His fragile mother smiled widely when she saw her handsome son.  

 

“Mother,” he said, giving her hands a squeeze.  Embracing prisoners was not permitted.

 

“Draco,” she said, sitting down.  “I’ve missed you, son.”

 

“I’ve missed you, too, Mother.  It’s been wonderful receiving your letters.”

 

“How did that come about, Draco?”  Draco was as crafty as any Slytherin, but the Malfoys had fallen down the social ladder over the past few years.  

 

“Hermione Granger and Harry Potter petitioned the Head Auror to amend your and father’s communication privileges.”

 

Narcissa looked at her son quizzically.  “Why, son?”

 

Draco swallowed and looked at his mother’s confused face.  “Hermione and I are together.  I intend to ask her to marry me.”

 

Narcissa was quiet for a moment, gathering her thoughts.  “She petitioned the Head Auror for me and your father?  We’ve been horrible to her.”

 

“She did it for me.  She knows how much I worry about you both.  It helps ease my mind to get your letters.”  

 

“Your letters have been my window to a happier time, Draco.  How was Miss Granger able to forgive you for the way you acted as a boy?”

 

Draco smiled at his mother.  “She’s an amazing woman.  She sees the good in people and knows that people can change.  Hermione’s also brilliant and interesting.  We always have something to discuss.”

 

Any Slytherin worth their salt could adapt to the winds of change and Narcissa Malfoy was no different.  She understood that Draco would make his way in society only if he bought into the new world order, which he clearly did.  Hermione Granger wasn’t whom she’d have picked for her son, but Draco’s well-being and care clearly mattered to the altruistic Miss Granger.  The Malfoy family might have a chance at survival if this union succeeded.

 

“I never thought our lives would be as hard as they’ve become.  But I’m grateful you’ve found someone who can look past your transgressions and your family.  Miss Granger makes you happy?”

 

“Very happy, Mother.”

 

“When will you ask her to marry you?”  Narcissa’s ten-year sentence would be bearable if she knew her son was loved and safe.  She felt her heart contract at the idea of seeing her son’s future family once her ordeal was over.

 

“Soon.  We’ll be living together after this weekend.”

 

“Draco!  That’s not proper,” Narcissa scolded.

 

“I know, Mother, but…the world is different.  I’m trying very hard to adapt to how other people do things.  Young couples sometimes live together before they marry.”  He didn’t tell his mother that it had been his idea to move in together.

 

She sighed.  “How is your father?”

 

“I haven’t seen him since the first year of his sentence.  His letters are very, um, meditative.  He has a lot of remorse for his actions.”

 

“You must visit him next time.  I will be fine, my son.”

 

“Are you sure, Mother?  He specifically told me to use my visits to see you.”

 

Narcissa wiped tears from her eyes.  “Yes.  Knowing that you are content and in love makes my life bearable.  Continue to write me and tell me about your life.”

 

A guard came into the room to take Narcissa back to her cell.

 

“Goodbye, Mother,” Draco said, giving her bony hand another gentle press.

 

“Goodbye, my son.” 

 

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

Hermione was arranging her clothing in the master bedroom closet when Draco returned from his visit.  He sat on the bed, looking downcast.  Hermione couldn’t imagine how horrid it would be to visit a parent in prison.  He was a loyal son.

 

She sat next to him and wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders.  He turned to her, taking in her expression of concern.  He'd never had someone exhibit this type of regard for his feelings before.

 

“I’m okay,” he murmured, leaning into her soft lips for a kiss.  His tongue stroked hers with firm pressure, while his hands tangled in her long hair.  After the thick, depressing air of Azkaban, Draco felt that he could finally breathe.  

 

His hands found the twin weights of her breasts, rubbing her pert nipples through her soft t-shirt.  She broke the kiss and moaned.  Draco helped divest her of her clothing, while she stroked his face and neck.  He kicked off his shoes and began to unbutton his shirt.

 

“Let me.”  Feminine hands deftly unbuttoned his shirt, helping him push the fine fabric off his chest.  Hermione nipped his flat nipples while she unbuckled his belt.  

 

“Merlin,” he swore.

 

Draco unzipped his pants and stood to kick off the rest of his clothing.  He took her hand and led her to the middle of the large bed.

 

Hermione’s hands stroked Draco’s body, enjoying his sighs as he began to relax.  She straddled him, kissing down his body towards his straining erection.  

 

To Draco, there was not a sight more erotic than a naked Hermione gratifying him with her body.  He could feel the heat and moisture of her core on his thighs as she leaned over him.  His cock nestled between her breasts as she kissed his abdomen.  Draco pushed her tits together, roughly pinching her nipples.

 

“Mmm,” she moaned, letting Draco thrust himself between her aroused tits.  She licked at his tip as he got close to her lips.

 

“Fuck, Granger,” he bit out.  His thrusting stopped and Hermione took him into her mouth.  He exhaled loudly.

 

Draco watched her full lips take him to the root, then pull up, her tongue feasting on his bulbous head.  She used one hand to fist his hardness while her other hand fingered her own folds.  When Hermione felt herself get close to orgasm, she stopping sucking and impaled herself on Draco.

 

He bucked into her tight cunt while she ground herself on him.  Draco pulled her down to suck at her full breasts.  

 

“Mmm, so good, Malfoy,” she moaned.

 

Draco felt himself close to release.  “Come with me,” he growled.

 

“Yes, oh Merlin, yes!” she screamed, letting herself go.  She had been teetering on the edge of orgasm for minutes.  

 

Draco groaned, emptying himself into her.  He pulled her down to rest on his chest.

 

“Draco?” 

 

“Yeah, love?”

 

Hermione thought for a moment about what she wanted to say to Draco to express her feelings.  But it was complex.  

 

“Do you want to take a bath with me?”

 

He pinched her bum.

 

“Malfoy!”

 

“Will you let me have my way with you in the bath?”

 

Nuzzling into his neck, she murmured, “Whatever you want.”

 

He took a deep breath, hugging her close.  “Thank you.”  Hermione knew he wasn’t referring to the incredible sex they’d just had.

 

She kissed his neck and led him towards the tub.

 

 

  

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonded

“Minister Shacklebolt will see you Miss Granger.”  

 

Hermione took a deep breath and walked into Kingsley Shacklebolt’s formal office.  

 

“Hermione!  It was lovely to see your name on my schedule this morning.  To what do I owe this pleasure?”  Kingsley motioned for Hermione to sit at a chair in front of his massive walnut desk.

 

“Thank you for seeing me, sir.”

 

The two chatted about minutia for a few moments before the minister asked why Hermione needed to see him.  He and Arthur Weasley spoke on a regular basis and he knew Hermione was heavily involved with Draco Malfoy.  He suspected it had something to do with Malfoy, since Hermione didn’t advocate for herself as often as she did for other people.

 

She calmed her jittery hands and looked at Kingsley.  “I wanted to talk to you about Draco Malfoy.  We’re romantically involved and I’ve gotten to know him well.  I understand his job was a part of his reparations for his actions during the war, but I think he could be of more use to the Ministry.  He’s quite brilliant, sir.  I think his intelligence is wasted fixing broken objects all day.”

 

“Does he know you’re talking to me about his Ministry work?”

 

“Merlin, no!  He’s not exactly enthusiastic about his work, but he does it well and I think it gives him some satisfaction.”

 

“And you, Hermione?  I didn’t think you’d be in the same job for as long as you have been.  Your talents far outweigh the work you do.”

 

Hermione ducked her head, abashed.  “I know.  It has taken me longer than I thought it would to begin to heal from the war.”

 

Kingsley felt a pang of regret at the suffering of this younger generation.  He had always felt that it was unfair, but it was fated that those adolescents would help the Light win the war.  Nonetheless, he would help Hermione now.  She deserved his assistance and more.  The wizarding world owed this woman its gratitude.

 

“I’ll talk to the director of the Department of Mysteries.  He’s admired Mr. Malfoy’s work, but didn’t want to be vocal about it.  He’ll help me find a better position for your beau.”

 

Hermione beamed at Kingsley.  “Thank you so much, sir.  I know Draco will excel.”

 

“How can he not with that type of support?” Kingsley observed.  Draco Malfoy was a lucky man to have Hermione’s love.  He only hoped that support went both ways.

 

“Now, let’s talk about you, Hermione...”

 

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::    

 

Draco flooed to the house he now shared with Hermione.  They had been living together for several weeks and it was the happiest, most content he’d ever felt.  He understood how important it was for Hermione to feel that the house was hers, too, so her familiar touch was now seen throughout the home.  

 

He found Hermione in the bedroom she had made into her personal study.  His painting of Hermione graced the fireplace mantle in the room.  Two linen covered wingback chairs faced the fireplace.  Bookshelves lined the walls.  She had removed the bed, but had added a large desk facing the window.  A large rug they had found in the attic warmed the stone floor and added hues of blue, teal and tan to the neutral room.  Her desk view showcased the lavender fields in the distance.  The smells of parchment, ink and Hermione filled his nose as he approached her.

 

He could see she had been writing all day.  Ink stained her fingers and her messy top knot was pierced with two quills.  Books and notes littered her desk.

 

“Hi,” he said, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck.  She nuzzled into his body, trying not to stain his clothing with her inky hands.

 

“I missed seeing you during the day, but I got so much written!”

 

After speaking with Kingsley and divulging that she was writing new texts for possible use at Hogwarts, he asked to see a draft of her work.  He read her DADA chapters, impressed with what she had done so far.  The Ministry offered her the opportunity to take a leave of absence from her post as the Dark Arts librarian to focus on her writing.  

 

“How was your day?” she asked.

 

Draco had taken over the Dark Arts Division after his elderly superior had decided to retire.  Hermione had warned Draco that she had talked to Kingsley Shacklebolt about his job.  He honestly didn’t think anything would come of her conversation with the minister, but lo and behold, a few weeks later he was asked to take over when Mr. Raleigh retired.  The Department of Mysteries was not as political as the rest of the Ministry, so the backlash Draco had been anticipating was minor.  Once it became common knowledge that Draco and Hermione were a cohabitating couple, people were more curious about him than wary. 

 

Draco grinned.  “Good, but better now that I’m home.” 

 

“Give me a moment to clean up and we can have supper.”

 

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

As a girl at Hogwarts, Hermione had scoffed at the idea of an elf willingly binding him or herself to a family in order to serve them, but she was starting to understand the mutual benefit of house elves and their wizarding family.  Every time she encountered Celli or Aman in the house, they were singing and dancing while they worked.  She found out they were an older couple and had been together for over one hundred years.  Draco’s Grand-mère had made sure they could read and that their living quarters were comfortable.  She also left them with access to an account for household expenses and their personal needs, which were minimal.  

 

That said, Hermione was now able to accept the elves’ work as part of living at the chateau.  They took care of most chores, although Hermione insisted on some cooking and tasks such as making the bed and putting away her belongings. 

 

Elves took care of the well being of the witches and wizards in their household as well.  The elves’ magic allowed them to see changes in the magical auras of their masters. Celli had asked Hermione about Draco and Hermione’s bond a few days before.  Hermione hadn’t understood.  

 

“I love him, Celli, if that’s what you mean?” Hermione asked unsurely.

 

“Celli noticed during Christmas your auras began to merge.  Now they are a similar color and hum when you are near each other.”  

 

“I can’t see or hear auras, Celli.  I felt closer to Draco after spending Christmas here with him.”

 

Hermione didn’t just feel closer to Draco after their week together, she felt that their feelings for each other had solidified.  When they decided to live at the chateau, it had taken some coordination, but neither fretted about living together after the decision was made.    

 

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: 

 

On this Friday night, Celli had prepared a fragrant dinner of beef and vegetables.  Draco pulled out Hermione’s chair and sat across from her.

 

Hermione opened her mouth to say something to Draco, then abruptly closed it.  She took a bit of her beef and considered how she might broach the subject with him.

 

“Draco, do you know anything about magical bonding?”

 

“I know it’s somewhat rare.  There are several compatibility factors that aid in couples becoming bonded.  But it’s not just about attraction and common interests, there’s an element of fate.  We spent some time on it in Divination sixth year.”

 

“Do you think we have any texts on bonding in the house?”

 

“I’m sure we do, but what’s this about?”  Draco noticed Hermione’s struggle to say what was on her mind.

 

She thought for a few moments.  

 

“Well, Celli has noticed our auras shifting colors and…a…humming when we’re near each other.  She thinks we may have magically bonded.”  

 

Draco suspected they had bonded during their week together at Christmas.  He began to hear an extremely faint whistle whenever Hermione was near.  It was a comforting sound, like a light wind blowing through tall grass.  

 

Although Hermione was an expert witch she still lacked some practical experience with wizarding culture and phenomena.  His parents had been magically bonded.  They had known each other as housemates in Slytherin and had become inseparable over the five years they were in school together.  Lucius was able to persuade his father to petition for Narcissa’s hand in marriage.  Her parents agreed she could marry when she finished her education.  Bonded couples could be apart for small amounts of time, but needed the connection with their partner to ensure their well-being.  It was a blessing in Draco’s eyes, but he couldn’t tell if Hermione felt the same.

 

“How do you feel about it?” he asked her.

 

She looked at her handsome lover, warmth and acceptance radiating through their bond.  Months of feeling positive, almost corporeal, emotions around Draco suddenly made sense.

 

“I knew I loved you fairly early into our relationship.  This feeling that I could trust you and grow with you was so clear to me.  There are other people I love in the world, but I could be here, at the chateau, with you forever and I would be happy.”

 

“I feel the same way about you, Hermione.  When I thought I had fucked up everything with you, I felt worse than I did when my parents went to Azkaban.”

 

Hermione stood and walked over to Draco, sitting sideways on his lap.

 

“Does this mean we’re, um, magically married?”

 

He tipped her face to look him in the eyes.            

 

“Sort of.  Magical bonding is…more.  Once you started to understand that we’d bonded, could you feel my affection for you through the bond?”  Draco asked.

 

“I can.  You accept me and are genuinely interested in what I’m saying.  You think I’m virtuous and moral, but pragmatic, too.  And the passion you feel for me is stronger because of love.”  She placed her palm over Draco’s heart.  “Is that right?”

 

He nodded.  

 

“What do you feel from me?” Hermione asked.  She knew it was hard for Draco to articulate his feelings, but she hoped he could read what she felt for him, as well.  

 

Draco lightly traced the lines along Hermione’s palm with his finger.  “You see me as a friend, a lover, a partner.  You’re proud of me for overcoming my upbringing and dealing with adversity.”  

 

Hermione kissed his temple.

 

“You see me in every part of your life and it’s better for you because I’m in it.” Draco finished.

 

“That’s how I feel about you,” she agreed.  Draco was humbled by her feelings for him.

 

“Is the bond enough for you or do you see us traditionally married?”  Draco wanted to marry Hermione in a wizarding ceremony, but didn’t want to push his luck.  Everything was so much better with Hermione in his life.

 

Hermione felt that Draco’s question was somewhat unfair to her.  She didn’t want him to feel pressured if she said she did want a white dress and marriage vows.  Before answering, she decided to listen to the bond.  What Draco felt for her was permanent.  He was sure about his feelings for her.

 

Realizing his blunder because of Hermione’s silence, Draco hugged her to him.  “Let me try that again.  I want whatever you want, but I want to marry you.  I’m willing to be patient and wait if you think it’s too soon.”

 

“Are you asking me to marry you?”  

 

He grinned.  “Sort of.  I thought we could decide together.”

 

“I love that idea.  I want to marry you.  I want everything with you, Draco.”  Two hearts beat quickly in excitement and passion.  

 

“You don’t have to take my name,” he said softly.  “We can forever more be Malfoy and Granger.”

 

“You can call me Granger, but I want us to be united as a family.  I’ll be proud to be a Malfoy because you’re a Malfoy.”  Hermione pressed a kiss to his lips.

 

“Are we going to do this, Granger?  When?” 

 

“This weekend?” she joked.

 

“I know you’re kidding, but I would do it now if you wanted to.”

 

They looked at each other for a few seconds.  Hermione nodded her head, her eyes tearing up.  

 

Draco Summoned a small, black velvet box.  Inside were a pair of thick platinum bands.  Hermione saw that the bands were engraved.  Draco handed her the smaller of the two rings.

 

“I’ve engraved the bands with our story.  If you want something else, we can look—“

 

Fat tears rolled down Hermione’s cheeks.  “No, Draco, I think this is perfect.  Tell me about the rings.”

 

Draco went on to tell her about the engravings: a book, which represented their initial meeting at Flourish & Blotts and her writing, a paint brush and palette for Hermione’s interest in art and Draco’s painting, an outline of France for the home they were making together, and a heart held in two hands.  Every picture was connected to the next with a shimmery string.  

 

“I left room on the rings so we can add more engravings over time, like when we have children.”  Draco kissed Hermione’s cheeks, tasting the salt of her tears.

 

“You never cease to amaze me, Draco Malfoy.”  She shook her head in astonishment.  

 

“Do you want to invite your friends or your parents?”  Draco didn’t want her to have any regrets.

 

She had considered owling Harry and Ginny, but her parents had ignored her letters for the past year.  No, marrying Draco in an intimate ceremony was what she wanted.

 

“Let’s focus on each other.  I don’t need anyone else there.”  

 

Draco stroked Hermione’s back.  “Do you want to get a dress?  I think you could probably find something tomorrow morning.”

 

“You won’t believe this, but I actually have the perfect dress.  I bought it a few months ago when I was shopping with Ginny.  It’s not a wedding dress, but it’s beautiful and it’s crème.”

 

Hermione remembered Ginny telling her that she would find a special occasion to wear such a gorgeous dress.  Not for the first time she wondered if Ginny had a touch of Seer in her blood. 

 

“Tomorrow,” Draco said softly, gazing into Hermione’s eyes.

 

“Tomorrow,” Hermione affirmed, fingering the wedding band Draco had lovingly created for her.

 

 


	13. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this story and for those kind souls who have left comments! Hugs to you all. <3

“How are you feeling, Hermione?” Ginny asked her friend.  Hermione looked every bit like a glowing, happy mother-to-be.  

 

“You know how it is towards the end of the pregnancy.  This little one moves all night, too.”

 

Ginny and Hermione were enjoying their monthly lunch date.  Molly was watching the Potter children: James, Albus, and Lily.  After James was born, Ginny had suffered a long bout of post-partum depression.  Along with Molly and Arthur, Hermione and Draco had helped take care of baby James at least twice a week until he was about seven months old.  Draco was James’ favorite uncle.  In fact, Draco was a favorite uncle to all the Potter and Weasley children.  Now, ten years later, the Potter and Weasley children would regularly enjoy sleepovers at the Malfoy home.  

 

But now the Malfoy home had its own children.  After four years of marriage, Draco and Hermione welcomed Carina Malfoy.  She had been a delightful, chubby baby.  Carina resembled her mother, but had her father’s fair coloring.  When Draco had shown a picture of Carina to his mother, she had wept.  She bitterly regretted her choice to support pure-blood supremacy.  Her granddaughter was proof positive that all magical people could beautifully and blessedly intermingle.  When Draco talked about Carina, Narcissa could see that his daughter was truly the apple of his eye.

 

“Is Draco excited about having another baby in the house?  You two waited a long time for this baby.”  Ginny had grown to love Draco like another brother.  He could be acerbic and awkward at times, but he was family now.  Harry and Draco could be found discussing Quidditch or fatherhood, with a beer in hand, on a regular basis.

 

“We’re both excited.  Carina’s thrilled that she’ll no longer be an only child.  She’s been helping us get the baby’s nursery ready.”  Hermione took a sip of her lemonade.

 

“I meant to tell you we saw your new book at Flourish & Blotts.  The Muggle Studies curriculum really needed help.  I bet Professor McGonagall loves having you work with Hogwarts to update the textbooks.”  Ginny was proud of Hermione.  She had been stuck in a rut after the war, but had been able to move from her depressing library job to writing full time.  Hermione had written five textbooks which had received glowing reviews from students and teachers alike.    

 

“It still amazes me that my books have been published.  How are Ron and Cassandra dealing with Edward going to Hogwarts this year?  I can’t believe he’s already eleven.”

 

Ginny laughed.  “Professor McGonagall hired Ron to teach flying and manage Quidditch, so Ron will get to see Edward regularly.  Cassandra’s thrilled that Ron will have a more regular schedule now.”

 

“I didn’t know that.  I’m glad Ron’s not playing for the Cannons anymore.  Last season was so hard on him, with that terrible fall.”  Hermione shuddered.  Ron had broken his leg, two ribs, his collarbone and his wrist.  Even with the aid of wizarding medicine, he had been out of action for the remainder of the season.

 

“Mum!  Look what Daddy got me,” trilled an exuberant Carina Malfoy.  Hermione looked up to see Draco trailing the small blond, smiling at his daughter’s excitement.  Carina showed her mum a training wand from Weasleys’ Wizarding Weezes.  

 

“Show Mum what you can do,” Draco said to his daughter.  

 

Carina muttered a spell and a small pink rose petal appeared.  

 

“Carina, you’re a natural!  You’ll have to show me more at home,” Hermione said to her daughter.  Carina tried to sit on her mum’s ever-shrinking lap, but settled for kissing her Aunt Ginny and sitting on her lap instead.

 

Draco pulled a chair next to Hermione’s and kissed her cheek.  “Did you have enough time?” he murmured.

 

“I did, love,” she said, taking his hand in hers.

 

Ginny dug something out of her purse and handed it to Draco.  “Harry wanted me to give you these.”  Draco opened the envelope to find tickets to the Cannons’ first game of the season.

 

“Thank him for me, Ginny,” Draco said cordially.  The Cannons had become his de facto team, thanks to the free tickets given to him by Harry and Ron.  Harry had become the head coach two years ago.  He was a motivating leader and the Cannons were playing better than they had in decades. 

 

“I better get back before James and Albus drive Mum crazy,” Ginny said to the Malfoys.  She hugged her honorary niece, kissing her smooth blond hair.

 

“Ask your mum if you can spend the night next weekend,” she whispered in the little girl’s ear.  “Lily misses you.”  

 

“Okay, Aunt Ginny.  Tell Lily I’ll bring my potions kit,” Carina whispered back.  

 

“Thanks for lunch, Gin,” Hermione said, hugging her friend.  

 

“My pleasure.  Call me if you need anything.”  Ginny patted Draco’s shoulder and left the restaurant.  

 

The three Malfoys walked to the Apparition point, enjoying the warm summer day.  Unbeknownst to Draco and Hermione, people viewed their love as a beacon of hope.  After the war, no one knew if old pure-blood families would adapt to integration with Muggle-borns and half-bloods.  But if Draco Malfoy, son of two of Voldemort’s biggest supporters and former Death Eater himself, loved Hermione Granger, then change was possible for everyone.  

 

Some people still sneered at Draco or ignored him, but over the years he had been accepted back into wizarding society.  Draco no longer dreaded venturing into Diagon Alley, although he didn’t do it very often.  He valued the kind words and gestures of wizards and witches, particularly when he had Carina with him.  Having been scorned, he was aware of the difference in people’s attitudes and appreciated it all the more. 

 

Hermione glanced up at Draco.  She could feel his gratitude coming through their bond.  She squeezed his hand and leaned her body into him.  

 

“Are you tired?” he asked her, noticing her slower steps.

 

“I’m fine, just thinking how happy I am to be here with you and Carina.”  

 

Draco didn’t say anything in response, but he didn’t need to.  He smiled at his wife.

 

“Let’s get you home, love.”  

 

After their years together, his favorite part of any day was being at home with his family.  

 

 

   

 

         


End file.
